Give All to Love
by Harry Potter you're my hero
Summary: Sequal to All Alone. He kissed her hand. "You've always carried so many burdens on your shoulders. You've always had to be strong for one reason or another… but not now, Hermione. Not now. You don't have to be strong. Give me your burdens, your troubles. I will be strong for you. I will carry you." DMHG Contains mature content.
1. Hurt

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, the poem **_**Give all to Love**_** by Ralph Waldo Emerson or the song _Hurt_ by Johnny Cash.**

_Give All to Love by Ralph Waldo Emerson_

_Give all to love;  
__Obey thy heart;  
__Friends, kindred, days,  
__Estate, good-fame,  
__Plans, credit and the Muse,-  
__Nothing Refuse._

'_T is a brave master;  
__Let it have scope:  
__Follow it utterly,  
__Hope beyond hope:  
__High and more high  
__It dives into noon,  
__With wing unspent,  
__Untold intent;  
__But it is a god,  
__Knows its own path  
__And the outlets of the sky._

_It was never for the mean;  
__It requireth courage stout.  
__Souls above doubt,  
__Valor unbending,  
__It will reward,-  
__They shall return  
__More than they were,  
__And ever ascending._

_Leave all for love;  
__Yet, hear me, yet,  
__One word more thy heart behoved,  
__One pulse more of firm endeavor,-  
__Keep thee to-day,  
__To-morrow, forever,  
__Free as an Arab,  
__Of thy beloved._

_Cling with life to the maid;  
__But when the surprise,  
__First vague shadow of surmise  
__Flits across her bosom young,  
__Of a joy apart from thee,  
__Free be she, fancy-free;  
__Nor thou detain her vesture's hem,  
__Nor the palest rose she flung  
__From her summer diadem._

_Though thou loved her as thyself,  
__As a self of purer clay,  
__Though her parting dims the day,  
__Stealing grace from all alive;  
__Heartily know,  
__When half-gods go,  
__The gods arrive._

**Chapter 1: Hurt**

"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel,  
I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real.  
The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting.  
Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything." –_Hurt, by Johnny Cash_

He still loved her, even if she didn't love him anymore. Every time he saw her, Draco Malfoy fell fast and hard for the woman who pretended he did not exist; every time she left he convinced himself that he didn't need her to live his life the way he wanted to. He reminded himself that he was young, handsome, rich, and pureblooded. He had the world at his fingertips.

He should have been happy, insanely so, that he was not really tied down; he could come and go as he pleased.

But Draco didn't want to come and go. He wanted to come home to his wife and son every night. He wanted consistency.

And he threw it all away on one night of foolishness.

He had been sitting in his room where he had been confined for weeks, shivering by the fire despite how warm the room was. His wounds had long since been fixed by a healer who had come in the first few days he had been back at the Manor, though it took much longer for his strength and body weight to get back to normal.

He had had a fever and was waiting for one of the elves to bring something to him. There had been a knock at the door; he had been irritated that the stupid elf didn't just apparate to his side and he snapped, "Get in here and be quick about it!"

The door opened and closed quickly and Draco hadn't bothered to look and make sure it was the elf. It wasn't until she was right beside him that he wished he had looked.

Ginny had always given Draco a bad feeling, an effect that not many people had on him. The way she had looked at him made him feel slightly sick to his stomach, and it wasn't because he was ill in the first place.

She had flung her arms around him and held on tight. "Oh Draco! I can't believe you're alive!"

"Yes, but if you don't pry yourself off soon I'll be smothered," he replied, pushing her away. She had far too much perfume on and dressed in a skimpy red dress like she was on her way to some sort of party.

Ginny started to giggle. "Oh you're so funny!"

"Is Hermione with you?" he asked.

"No," she replied rather icily, "she and Harry went out for dinner."

"Why aren't you with them?"

Ginny waved her hand as if to dismiss the question. She smiled and pronounced, "I said I had a headache. Hermione really is in a dreadful mood these days, always mumbling to herself and getting these far off looks and I really didn't want to listen to her go on all night long."

"Does she know I'm here?" Draco asked, feeling uncomfortable that she was staring at him again.

"I'll tell her right away when I see her," Ginny assured him.

As they drifted into an awkward silence, Tiny arrived with a potion for Draco. He drank it in one large gulp and immediately began to feel better.

"Did you want anything?" He regretted implying that he wanted her to stick around for a bit.

Their tea had arrived, and Ginny insisted that she get it for him since he was ill. He remembered asking Tiny for something to eat and then taking a drink of his tea. A strange sensation swept throughout him; it was as if he didn't have a care in the world. He felt happy and alive for the first time in a long time.

Smiling, he looked to Ginny to see if she felt happy too. She looked completely different to him in that moment; he found her strangely attractive and felt the urge to yell to the world that he was in love with Ginny. She had slipped something in his drink!

Fight it Draco! Fight the potion! With everything he had in him, Draco had tried to ignore the effects of the love potion but it was a very strong one. He found himself pulling Ginny towards him and kissing her. Stop! Draco screamed at his body, stop it!

Tiny arrived with food and he managed to push Ginny away from him and gasp, "Stop." He tried to tell Tiny to send help but ended up telling the elf not to bother him when he had guests with him. Then, to his horror, he demanded that the small elf leave.

As the potion became more powerful, Draco lost all control of his body and thankfully did not remember much after that.

He regretted letting her into his room that night with everything in him. He felt guilty and stupid and he hoped that it was something that would remain a secret. Ginny wouldn't tell if she knew what was good for her, and he would certainly never admit to anything.

But somehow she had found out. And right when he thought everything would be alright.

He knew how much it had hurt Hermione. He saw it in her face every time he looked at her. Her face was drawn tight and she had dark circles under those brown eyes that were so full of hurt and hatred. And every time he saw her she looked a little paler, a little thinner, and ten times more exhausted.

Draco feared for her health. He knew Hermione was working too hard, taking a fulltime position in the emergency ward of St. Mungo's and all the while being a mother to Luke. He offered on countless occasions to take Luke for a few days to allow her to catch up on her rest, but she only reminded him that she didn't need his pity; she had done just fine without him. And besides, she said, she didn't know what kind of filth her son would be exposed to lest she leave him alone.

So Draco let her go, let her leave him time after time, ripping his heart apart like it was the first time she left. Draco wanted her back in his arms with everything he had in him. He wanted her to smile when she looked at him, not frown and look away. He wanted to talk to her about meaningful things, not just exchange strained pleasantries and say a few words about the weather. He wanted things to be the way they had been when they had been newlyweds; their only problems being about who hogged the covers at night.

Draco didn't know how much longer he could stand it. Something within him was going to snap. He could feel it getting harder and harder to keep everything so perfect, to make himself appear not to care, to keep himself from going crazy and demanding that Hermione remain within his sight so he didn't have to worry.

But he had brought everything on himself. If anyone deserved to be miserable, it was him.

That was how he lived for the first three weeks. Miserable, depressed and completely isolated from everyone.

And then he snapped. Draco drank, he stayed out all night, and he gambled away huge amounts of his inheritance. Drinking helped numb the pain, staying out helped him focus on other things. Money didn't matter anymore; losing it seemed like nothing compared to everything else he lost. The only time he spent at his house in a sober state was when Hermione and Luke came over, but even then he had a drink in his hand.

Alcohol was his medication. It softened the world around him making sharp lines blur and bad thoughts disappear. He liked not thinking. He liked his alcohol.

Hermione disagreed. Apparently drinking was on her list of bad things. And he learned the hard way.

It was a Sunday morning when he opened the door and smiled at Hermione and Luke. Luke smiled too, wrapping his arms around Draco's legs.

"Hello Draco," Hermione said stiffly, as she did every time she visited. She never looked him in the eyes; like she was too disgusted to even look at him.

"Hey Hermione, Luke," he replied as cheerfully as possible watching Hermione, "I missed you."

He frowned as he saw her flinch and look at her feet.

"Daddy! Look what I can do!" Luke cried. He pulled a red ball from his pocket and set it on the ground. His face crumpled in concentration as he stared at the ball then broke into a triumphant smirk as the ball began to move.

"Great job Luke!" Draco smiled, picking up the miniature version of himself and carrying him into the house. He paused in the middle of the hallway and looked back. Hermione was still standing in the doorway, her hands clasped as if praying and blinking rapidly. She was crying.

"Hermione?" he asked softly, setting Luke on the ground and taking a small step toward her.

She flinched again and quickly dried her eyes, plastering a smile that was too cheerful on her face and muttering something about a piece of dust in her eyes.

Draco sighed. "Are you going to come in?"

She glared at him and hissed, "Yes!" She marched past him and went into their usual room.

Draco sighed again and followed her in. The room was filled with the same leather chairs and glass coffee tables that had been there since his childhood, the walls still dark green and heavy drapes blocked out most of the light. The only thing that had changed was the various toys and things scattered around the room, the product of Draco trying to win both Luke's affection and Hermione's trust that he could be a good father.

Luke was already playing with something that was in the far corner. Hermione sat down in one of the chairs and watched the child play. She ignored Draco when he sat down in the chair beside her and scooted as far away from him as possible without moving to another chair.

He studied her as she watched Luke play. She would smile faintly when he did something funny, frown when he didn't understand a puzzle and even mimicked the correct hand movements to solve a Rubik's Cube.

That was when he saw that she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. Apparently she hadn't wasted any time getting back into the Draco-is-dead-to-me-and-I'm-single routine.

Thoughts rushed through his head all at once. Was she seeing someone? Did she ever think of him and what they had been? Was she happy? Or miserable like him? Did she miss him? Did she imagine him every time she kissed someone else?

He felt like his head was going to explode with the rage he felt as he thought of her being with someone else. He shook as he stood up and went to a small table by the window grabbing the first bottle of alcohol he came to and gulping down a glass quickly.

It didn't help. He poured another glass. That didn't help either. He took the bottle with him as he went back to his chair.

He heard a loud sigh from his left as he began drinking straight out of the bottle.

He ignored it. Hermione always sighed when she was around him. She never meant anything by doing it anyway; there was nothing bothering her that she felt inclined to tell him about.

This was just as well, since he was sure he was the one doing the bothering.

She sighed again. He ignored it again. She coughed. He ignored her. She coughed again. He tried to ignore it, but then realized there was a possibility that she was choking on something so he glanced quickly her way to check if she was turning blue.

Not a chance. She was glaring at him and then the bottle in his hand, her face very much skin colored. "What?" he asked.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"Eating a mermaid. What does it look like I'm doing?" he said sarcastically.

"Don't get smart with me. I mean what do you think you're doing drinking in front of Luke?"

Draco looked towards Luke. He was engrossed with what he was doing; not even facing them. "For all he knows, this is water."

She snorted. "I can smell it from here. What are you going to say when he asks you why you stink?"

Draco smirked. "It's some new cologne."

Hermione glared at him.

"What's the big deal anyway? It's not like I'm giving it to him."

"Why should I have to explain myself? I'm his mother. I'm raising him, and what I say goes."

"What? I'm raising him too."

"_You_ are not raising him. You see him for a few hours every other day. How does that and trying to buy his affection with presents count as raising him?"

"Well maybe if you actually let me spend time with him… you and me sitting here awkwardly watching him play alone doesn't count. Let me take him to the park. Let me take him on a trip."

"No."

"Why?" Draco asked, his voice getting louder.

"How am I supposed to know that you won't go dump him on some nanny while you go and do only God know what? How do I know that you won't take him with you while you go partying?"

"How will you know if you don't let me try!?" he demanded.

"I don't want to take any chances. If you are willing to drink in front of him, what else are you going to do?"

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

"Well your actions lately haven't made you look very smart." She crossed her arms.

"Oh, I see. So because of one mistake I'm now so stupid that I can't even be alone with my own son?"

She looked away. "It's not only that. Other things have led me to this decision."

"Like what?" he questioned.

"Oh I don't know! Think about it for a minute!"

"Tell me Hermione, can I do anything right?"

"I don't know Draco. You tell me!"

"Stop holding all this shit over my head Hermione! Do you honestly think that if I had really wanted to be with Ginny that I would be doing everything in my power to get her away from Potter? Would I really put any effort into trying to spend time with you and Luke when I could just disappear? For being as smart as you are, Hermione, you really don't think that much do you?"

"Shut up! Just shut your stupid mouth! I have single-handedly raised Luke for three years. I know what is best for him! And if I don't want him around a cheating drunk, well that's my decision isn't it!" she shouted.

"Lucas is my child too! You cannot take him away from me! I won't allow it!" he shouted back.

"Watch me!" she cried, getting up quickly and picking up Luke who was watching with wide eyes.

"No," Draco exclaimed, getting to his feet, "you won't win this time, Hermione. I won't let you. If you don't let me see my son, I will take you to court and they can decide."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't dare! Besides, they don't even know you're alive. Why would they believe it's really you?"

"That is easily changed."

"You can try as hard as you like, Draco, but you are not going to get your way. Not this time." She pushed past him and walked out the door.

Draco smirked. Yes, it was true that no one really knew for sure he was alive, though he had heard the ridiculous rumors. It was time to put those rumors to rest in a way only a Malfoy could.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Tell me what you think!


	2. Invitations

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 2: Invitations**

Hermione sighed loudly as she walked quickly to the apparation point just outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Draco had a lot of nerve to say the things he did. Of all the things he could have done, he had to question her abilities to make the right decisions as a mother? How could he even say anything when he had no idea what it was like to be a single parent?

"_Well maybe if you actually let me spend time with him…"_ The words echoed through her head. She snorted. She wasn't stupid enough to allow that, it would be like giving Luke a knife and asking him to run. Putting the thought from her head, Hermione apparated to her house.

As soon as she unlocked the door and told Luke to go play, she went to the fireplace, tossed some floo powder in and stuck her head in, saying the address of Harry's apartment.

Harry was sitting on the couch staring into space. "Hey Harry," she said.

"I already told you I don't want to see you right now," he said, looking over at her. "Oh it's you Hermione. How are you doing?"

Hermione frowned. "How do you think?"

"It was that bad?"

"Worse. Do you want to come over or are you busy?"

He smiled. "Nope."

Within seconds, Harry was in Hermione's fireplace shaking off the last bit of soot from his shirt. He smiled again and asked, "What happened?"

Hermione sighed and sat down on the nearest chair and waited until Harry sat down too. Then she stated, "We got into a fight in front of Luke."

Harry raised his eyebrows and asked, "About what?"

She looked at the mantle covered in pictures of her friends and family. "Well he was drinking again, like he usually is, but this time he was drinking it straight out of the bottle! And, well, it made me a little angry, but then things started to get worse…

"He told me he wanted to take Luke to the park, and I told him no. I mean, why would I let my child go with him, the lying adulterer, anywhere? And he threatened to go to court to get rights, which I don't see how he can because everyone still thinks he is dead."

Harry sighed. "Hermione, don't get angry with me, but you know that even though everybody thinks he is dead he is still a very powerful man. He has connections with people in places we could never dream of. If I were you, I wouldn't take any of his threats lightly."

"Why can't things stay the way they are now? Why did he have to suddenly want to spend time with him? What is so important that he needs to see Luke every minute of every day?" She crossed her arms.

"Give him a break, Hermione. He wants to spend some time with him. So let him. What will one time hurt?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It would scar him for life, that's what it will do!"

How could he be taking Draco's side in all of this? If he only knew that it had been Ginny who Draco had cheated with, things would be different. But Hermione knew it would kill him if he found out. So for the moment, she would remain silent.

"You shouldn't keep Luke away from Draco. Even if he did cheat on you, he should be able to spend time with his own flesh and blood," Harry returned.

Yes, well he was her flesh and blood, too, and she should have some say in the matter. "I'm not keeping Luke away from Draco. He sees him every other morning. I'm making sure Luke knows who his father is."

"It's not the same as getting to spend time with him alone. They should be able to get to know each other without you breathing down Draco's back waiting for him to mess up. It is probably stressing him out, and that is most likely the reason why he began drinking. You're putting a lot of pressure on him, forcing him to get to know Luke by observation, not interaction." He looked past her and out the window, not wanting to meet her eyes.

That was ridiculous, she wanted to exclaim, she was not putting any pressure on Draco, and if she was, well he deserved it! He deserved a lifetime of pressure. He had a mountain of things he needed to make up and apologize for before she would even consider letting him spend time alone with Luke.

Instead, she just nodded, quickly tiring of everyone being on Draco Malfoy's side.

They sat quietly for a few moments, listening to Luke playing in the other room. Hermione sighed and said, "So, how are things going with your wife?" She couldn't bring herself to use her name.

Harry shrugged. "The same. We haven't talked since Tuesday, when we had a long 'discussion' about my supposed affair with you."

Hermione snorted. The nerve of that woman!

"I know it is completely absurd, but she seems to think that we have something going! It would be like being with my sister." He shuddered.

Hermione laughed. "You and me? Is this because of what happened at Ron's wedding?"

"Probably," he chuckled. "Her hormones are so crazy right now that I'm almost glad she is staying with her mother. Maybe she's delusional."

"Maybe," she echoed, but she knew better. That hypocritical wench was trying to put the attention on Hermione so she could get away with whatever she wanted. And with Harry so bent on fixing every problem that came his way, she knew that Harry would be preoccupied with the whole affair thing for a while.

Harry smiled. "Don't worry, Hermione, I'll get it all straightened out, and then we can all get along again. Maybe you could even move back in with us."

"Sorry Harry, but the things that woman have said and done to try and ruin my life are unforgivable. Besides, I rather like this neighborhood. It reminds me of when I was a child."

Sighing, he looked at his watch. "I'd better get going," he said standing, "Molly is bringing James over. He spent the weekend with Ginny," he added when Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, alright," she replied, suspecting that he wanted to avoid the subject of _her_, and had used an excuse to get away from it.

"See you later," Harry called before stepping into the green flames that had ignited the moment before.

"Bye," she said, but he was already gone.

She walked slowly into the other room where Luke was playing. When she came near him, Luke looked up at her, his eyes huge. "Momma, why did you and Daddy yell?"

Hermione sat down on the floor and opened her arms. Luke sat in her lap, and Hermione replied, "Well, sometimes Mommies and Daddies have a disagreement and it makes us angry so we raise our voices."

"Did I do bad? Is that why you yelled Luke's name?"

"No sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong," she replied.

"Oh. But Momma, why doesn't Daddy live with us?"

Hermione sighed. "It's complicated."

"Why?" Luke questioned.

"Maybe I'll tell you when you're older." She hugged him tightly.

"Can we go see him again today?"

"No, not today, honey." She didn't know if she could keep from physically hurting him if she saw him again so soon.

"I like going to see Daddy. He always has a present for me."

"I know, but let's stay here today. Don't you want to play outside?"

Luke nodded his head eagerly and jumped up, heading to the backyard.

Hermione followed, grateful that she didn't have to say more on the subject.

**XXXXX**

The next morning, Hermione was woken by a magnificent black owl tapping insistently on her window, holding an envelope that was large and heavy looking.

She hurried to open the window. The bird rushed in, dropped the letter on the floor, and flew away without waiting for a response to be written.

The envelope was mint green with _Mrs. Draco Malfoy_ written in elegant black handwriting. Puzzled, Hermione opened it and pulled out the contents.

It wasn't a letter at all. It was an invitation. The thick white paper had been edged in gold, the same black handwriting filled the page, and she could just barely make out a pale family crest behind the words.

_You are cordially invited  
__to a ball honoring  
__Draco Malfoy  
__Saturday, August second,  
__At eight o'clock._

It was clever, she would give him that much. She would have to act like his loving wife; she would have to act like being in his presence didn't make her want to vomit. She would have to listen as he told everyone over and over the story that was probably a lie anyway, and all the other things that she had no desire to do.

But she was not going to let him win. She would find a lawyer, and a good one at that. She would go to this ball and act like she adored him. And then she would take him to court and make sure he couldn't take her son away from her.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Yes, I know it's short and kind of boring, but I needed something to set the scene for what is happening next. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanks for reviewing: **bittersweetazn, Teardropsofpain, snapeluna, Irmorena, -L-Lawliet'sGirl-BabyBluewinx, christy86, heavenleehime, Eyes that are the Windows to the Soul, lakldjfgla, royal, ame, axelvaz, Harry-lover12189, Penny, Lola P. Malfoy**

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	3. O, How I Hate Thee!

**DISCLAIMER: I cannot lay claim to anything that has to do with Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 3: O, How I Hate Thee!**

_The pain of your betrayal cuts me still._ – Elaine Barbieri, Wings of a Dove

In many ways, Draco Malfoy's wife was unpredictable, like when she insisted on getting a tattoo for her nineteenth birthday, or having the Muggle contraption she called a telephone installed in Malfoy Manor, home of the family that was known for not liking Muggles or their things. But she was usually so unpredictably predictable that he was not surprised to see her burst into his house in a rush of frizzy hair mere minutes after his owl returned from delivering her invitation. In fact, Draco had been planning on it.

Hermione burst through the door of his office, where he was sitting with a party planner and a decorator, planning what was surely to be the event of the year. After all, Draco Malfoy, thought dead for almost four years had returned better and more perfect than ever! Well almost perfect, anyway, there was still one aspect of his life he had yet to get back, and that was going to take some serious work.

Walking briskly to his desk, Hermione threw the invitation in front of him and hissed, "And just _what _is all this about?"

Draco looked up from choosing between a charcoal and ink black napkin. "Oh, hello Hermione, I didn't expect you back so soon. Gentlemen, this is my wife, Hermione. Hermione, this is Lars and Jeremy," he said, gesturing at the two impeccably dressed men who were staring with mouths slightly agape.

"It's nice to meet you," Hermione replied stiffly, "but if you would excuse us, my _husband _and I need a word." She glared at Draco as the two men hurried out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"Which to you prefer?" Draco asked, holding up the fabric choices.

"Cut it out, Draco," she spat, "I know what you're trying to do, and let me tell you right now, it is _not_ going to work."

So she did know. But who was he kidding? She was the smartest witch of their generation, he couldn't expect something like him revealing he was alive and then proceeding to try and get custody of their son to go unnoticed.

"Oh?" Draco raised one eyebrow, feigning innocence. "And what makes you think that I'm trying to do anything?"

Hermione growled and slammed her fists on the desk. "Why must you insist upon making everything so difficult? Just admit it; you're trying to ruin everything I've established for myself because you can't get over your selfishness."

Draco stared at her for a long moment. Was that really what she thought? That he was trying to ruin everything for her? "You know," he said, "not everything I do is a deliberate attempt to ruin your life. Have you ever stopped to think that you are ruining my life just as much as I'm ruining yours?"

Hermione opened her mouth and shut it again, falling into the nearest chair, crossing her arms and looking away.

The urge to wrap her in his arms was overwhelming, but Draco kept his distance, knowing that if he attempted to touch her, she would more than likely claw his eyes out.

"I like the charcoal color," Hermione said suddenly, "it goes better with the green on the invitation."

"So you're coming, then?" Draco asked, a miniscule glimmer of hope finding its way into him. Maybe he still had a chance to prove he was trustworthy and then he would get to spend time with Luke without having to ruin the last chance he had of getting her back…

"Yes," she replied, looking at Draco for a moment, "but it doesn't change anything between us. I am only coming because I will remain your wife in the public eye, and it is only for Luke."

He covered up a grimace. Hope that had made its appearance only an instant before disappeared like a puff of smoke, leaving Draco wondering why he even allowed himself such frivolous thoughts. "Fine," he returned, his tone icy, "I'll see you Saturday."

"Fine," Hermione answered in the same tone. She got up, grabbed her invitation from Draco's desk and walked out the door.

**XXXXX**

Hermione's week passed in a blur of work, spending time with Luke and searching for a lawyer, which was proving to be a very difficult task. Once any of them heard that she wanted to get sole custody of the child of the man she was stuck with for life, who just happened to be Draco Malfoy, heir to one of the longest standing lines of pureblooded wizards (not to mention the wealthiest) they lost interest fast.

It was frustrating to say the least, and the whole ordeal left her stressed out and angry. Why was everyone so afraid of the Malfoy family? Narcissa had always been pleasant to her, and Lucius, though not pleased with his son's choice in wife by any means, had been courteous on the rare occasion when their paths crossed.

But then again, she had never seen Lucius or Draco do what they did best; get what they wanted.

Why couldn't Draco just drop the whole charade? Why couldn't he just accept that Hermione knew what was best for their child and move on? He just wanted to ruin her life, and she found herself hating him even more for it.

And it didn't help when on Saturday morning she received a note from Draco.

_Hermione,_

_Come today at three with Luke. Don't bother bringing a dress; it's been taken care of._

_-D._

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. The nerve of that man! How dare he tell her what to do and what to wear?! She was a grown woman, and as such she could make her own decisions. She would come when she was good and ready to, and in her own dress.

**XXXXX**

Draco glared at the large grandfather clock in his office. It was 7:42. He had specifically told Hermione to be at the manor at three that afternoon. It was now four hours and forty-two minutes later, and his lovely wife has neither shown up nor sent a letter explaining where she was.

That damnable woman! Draco ran his hands through his hair and began to pace back and forth. He looked out the window and could see the outlines of couples who had arrived early walking in the dark gardens. He bet that none of those men had to fight to win their wives affection, but then none of their wives happened to be Hermione.

He really didn't know why he even bothered to try to make her love him again. She was too stubborn to see past his mistakes. He knew he should give up, but by God Draco still loved Hermione with everything he had and he wanted to make their marriage work.

But she was obviously doing everything she could to do the opposite. He knew that she could hardly stand the sight of him, and to be honest, Draco could not stand the sight of himself either. He had done something so despicable that he could hardly believe that the man he saw in the mirror was really him.

He just could not understand why she couldn't forgive him! He had admitted to everything, and yet she did not seem to be able to believe that her dear friend Ginny could so something so low as to slip something in his tea. He knew that she did not like Ginny, and vice versa, so why was she standing up for her?

Draco glanced at the clock again. 7:45. Where was she? At that precise moment, the door of his office opened, revealing an angry looking Hermione and Luke, who looked like he was about ready to fall asleep.

Anger filled his voice as he demanded, "Where have you been? I told you to be here almost five hours ago! And what are you doing wearing that dress, I told you I had one for you, we need to match!"

Hermione feigned innocence and said, "Oh, I suppose I forgot to come. I have a very busy life, with being a mother and all. Don't you like my dress?" She gestured at herself and spun around in a circle to let him see it.

Yes, he did like the dress she was wearing very much, in fact, it made him want to have her on his desk right then and there, but he was not going to admit it. The floor length blood red gown was made out of silk, and was form fitting until it reached her legs, where it fanned out subtly. The v-neck front revealed a significant amount of cleavage and there was no back, just one small diamond studded strap holding the sides together. She had on a simple silver necklace that had a teardrop shaped diamond hanging from it, and a small plain silver bracelet. Her hair looked tame, done up in an elaborate twist.

"It is… suitable," he replied, "but that doesn't explain why you weren't here when I told you to be here! We were supposed to have done an interview for the _Prophet_, but I had to cancel because you weren't here!" It was a complete lie, but Draco wanted to make her feel bad.

"I do not have to explain _anything_ to you, Draco Malfoy," she hissed, "I am a grown woman, and I have a life of my own!"

A light knock came from the door. "Come in," Draco said tersely, not looking away from Hermione. An elderly looking woman walked in and tried to pick up Luke, who had been standing there the whole time listening to Draco and Hermione's little spat.

Hermione glared at the woman and exclaimed, "Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. This is Mrs. Sanders, and she will watch Luke tonight." Hermione tightened her hold on Luke's hand. "Don't worry," he added, "she was my nanny when I was a boy. Nothing will happen."

"How come I haven't seen her before?" Hermione asked.

Draco rolled his eyes again. "Because I was a grown man when we lived here, and I haven't needed a nanny since I was nine years old."

Hermione frowned but allowed the woman to take Luke in her arms and leave the room, shutting the door.

Once he was sure that the nanny and Luke were a safe distance away, Draco opened his mouth to say something but was stopped short when Hermione began yelling at him. "Who in the hell do you think you are?! How dare you assume that I will drop everything and come at your beck and call?"

"Excuse me? I was only looking out for Luke. What do you suppose the papers will have to say about you coming late, already dressed up, when supposedly you were out doing something? I thought you would have been smart enough to realize that there could be disastrous consequences for Luke's future. What do you suppose the other children will say when he goes to school and they hear about how his parents don't live together, let alone get along?"

Hermione glared at him and exclaimed, "Well he wouldn't have to worry about that if his father had used his brain in the first place!"

"So we are back to this now? Look, I know you hate me, and I understand that."

"No you cannot even begin to _understand_ how it feels to have your husband sleep with your friend! You have no idea so don't even try to pretend that you know how it feels!" Crossing her arms, Hermione looked at Draco with a great deal of maliciousness.

"Hermione," he began, taking a step closer to her.

"No!" she shouted, turning away from him. "You don't know what it is like to find out your husband never died in the first place, that he had been alive and well in his house for months, _months_, Draco! And you don't know how it feels to know that I never received so much as an owl telling me that you were alive, but that my best friend's wife knew the whole time and never told me!"

He could see that she was trying very hard not to cry, even with her back turned to him. He wanted to hold her very badly, even just be able to put his hand on her shoulder and tell her everything would be alright.

But he could see that his just being around her was killing her. The pain he had inflicted on her was just too deep. "I'm sorry," he said simply, because there was nothing else he could say.

She turned to look at him, and even with tears threatening to fall from her chocolate eyes and an angry look on her face, Draco still thought that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, and he cursed himself for what he did to her.

She used to be strong. At one point in time he had thought that nothing could bring her down, but he realized that the only thing that did in fact bring her to ruin was him.

"Sorry won't cut it," she snapped, turning sharply on her heel and walking out the door.

He stood still for a moment before following her down the hallway towards the ballroom where guests were trickling in.

He stood outside the open doors of the massive room, not wanting to go in and pretend he was happy. He was sick of the charade, and he hadn't even had to start it yet. Looking in at all the seemingly happy people inside made him want to punch something. What gave them the right to enjoy themselves? Just what was so damn special about them that they seemed to be exempt from feeling the anger and frustration that was rushing through him?

"Draco, stop frowning, people will start to talk," a voice said to his left. He turned to see his mother standing next to his elusive father, who had come from his job as a bounty hunter of sorts for the Ministry, who were still searching for Death Eaters and their dark objects.

"Leave me alone Mother." Draco turned back to staring into the large room, and saw Hermione mingling about with a smile on her face that he knew to be completely insincere.

"Draco," Narcissa said again, "whatever is bothering you will have to wait until another time. There is a party in your honor going on, and people will start to worry if you do not make an appearance."

"Fine," he snapped, plastering a smirk on his face and walking in, heading in the direction of the bar. He needed to forget the tears that he had seen in Hermione's eyes, and more importantly, forget that he had been the one to cause them.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Yes, I know it has been way too long. I am really sorry. This chapter was a little difficult; I was having trouble with transitions and getting my brain to get my ideas into story. I promise I will not take so long to update again!

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Leave a review! They are very helpful, and I like to know what you think.


	4. A Simple Game of Faking

**DISCLAIMER: I wish.**

**Chapter 4: A Simple Game of Faking**

There was a reason Hermione hated parties; many actually. She didn't like dancing, she didn't like having to talk about the weather endlessly, most of all, she didn't like running into the people she didn't want to see, because that meant that she had to be nice to them.

And, as luck would have it, the two people she wanted to avoid most just happened to be there, one of them acting as the host of the evening.

Not that she was surprised to see the woman who ruined her marriage walk through the door. She knew that eventually she would have to see_ her_ again, but she had rather hoped that they could meet in private so she could personally rip her head off.

And what was worse, she had Harry with her, and it looked like he was actually enjoying himself. Hermione watched as he kissed Ginny's cheek, photographers that had gathered near the huge double doors snapping pictures.

She sighed and looked away. Poor, naive Harry, he had no idea the things his little wife was capable of…

**XXXXX**

Draco turned away from the bar, feeling slightly better about his current situation. He figured that as long as there were people around, Hermione would have to stay with him and act the part of a devoted wife. And as long as she was around him, well, maybe he could use that time to try to make her see his side of things.

He glanced around the huge ballroom and decided it was used too little. It really was a magnificent room; with the far wall covered in windows with French doors leading out to the gardens, and a huge gold chandelier hanging from a frescoed ceiling three stories above him. It had been built many centuries before for the sole purpose of stunning its guests with its splendor and conveying how wealthy the family that lived there was.

Apparently, it still had the same effect on people as he noticed many of his guests had badly hidden looks of envy on their faces. He smirked and began looking for his wife; he was going to get as much time with her out of this situation as he could.

She was standing by an open door to the garden looking out and sipping on a glass of champagne. Taking a drink of his liquid courage, Draco walked slowly to his wife, nodding and smiling to everyone as he went. She turned and watched him approach as if she knew what he was thinking and to his vast surprise, she smiled what seemed like a genuine smile and reached her hand out for his. "There you are," she said softly, "I was wondering where you were."

From the corner of his eye he saw a reporter eyeing them hopefully. Taking Hermione's hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it lightly, taking notice of how her smile became more of a grimace and she pulled her hand away soon after, eyeing him as if to say 'try that again and I will curse you'. Draco shrugged and smirked, pulling her close and putting his arms around her waist. Hermione pulled away, but Draco tightened his grip and whispered in her ear, "Remember what you said. Do it for Luke."

Instantly, Hermione relaxed against him and put her hand on his chest, looking in his eyes with fake admiration. They stood like that for some time, Draco wasn't sure how long, but he didn't mind. And then, before he realized what was happening, Draco ran his fingers lightly along her jaw. He felt her tremble and saw her chin quiver; she looked down. She didn't resist when he lifted her chin and wiped the moisture from her cheek. And once again, before he even realized what he was doing, he brought his mouth to hers.

He could notice nothing but the feel of her lips on his, the way she melded into his arms and sighed, the feel of her fingers in his hair. He didn't care about the fact that they were probably being watched, as far as he was concerned they were the only two in the world in that moment.

A flash of light brought him back to reality. Regretful, for both making Hermione do something she didn't want to do, and worse, enjoying it himself, Draco pulled himself away from her. Hermione's face turned pink and she suddenly found her glass of champagne very interesting. Tearing his eyes away from her and looking in the direction the light had come from, Draco saw a reporter standing before them, her assistant standing with a camera in his hands. "Good evening, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy," came the voice of Rita Skeeter. "Might I have a word?"

The perfect opportunity for publicity had just been presented to him. To his right he heard Hermione sigh. "Of course," Draco said pleasantly. "Shall we go someplace a little more private?"

"After you," Rita exclaimed, smiling widely.

Draco took Hermione's hand and led the way out the door and into the gardens, sitting on a stone bench far from the noise of the party going on inside. Hermione sat close enough to not raise any suspicions, while Skeeter sat on the bench opposite him.

"So, tell me Draco, the readers want to know, just _where_ have you been all this time?" She leaned forward, her quick quotes quill already writing away.

"I was captured while away on business," Draco replied, not at all affected by the woman's stare.

"Captured? What for?"

Draco examined his fingernails and said absentmindedly, "I have no idea. Jealousy, I suppose. Maybe they were after a large sum of money. I have quite a bit, you know."

"I see. And your life was in danger?"

"Every day."

"How did you ever escape?"

Draco remained silent. How could he tell them that he murdered his captors to save his family? He could feel Hermione watching him too. Finally, he said, "I did what I had to do to survive."

"What did you think, Mrs. Malfoy, when you found out your husband was alive?"

Draco watched as Hermione lowered her head, spinning her wedding ring around her finger. It looked like she was fighting back tears. "I didn't think; I couldn't. I was in shock. I thought I would never see him again." Draco grabbed her hand and held it tight, hoping to give her some feeling of comfort.

She pulled her hand away, wiping her eyes and glancing at him before smiling at Rita. "I'm sorry, if you'll excuse me," she said, getting up and hurrying away.

**XXXXX**

Hermione could not believe the wreck she was becoming. First, she had kissed Draco and, against all her trying, enjoyed it. Then she had practically started blubbering like an idiot in front of Rita Skeeter. So much for playing the tough guy.

Wiping her eyes, Hermione got up from the bench she had been sitting on and walked into the ballroom. A few couples were dancing to a slow waltz, but the majority of the guests were seated at tables waiting for dinner and enjoying themselves.

She saw Harry, Ron, Luna, and Ginny sitting at one of the tables and she walked quickly to them and sat down, completely ignoring Ginny as she glared at Hermione, got up and walked away. "You two still aren't getting along?" Ron asked watching his sister sit by Padma Patil.

"No," Hermione responded with a smile.

"So fill me in on what happened with Draco. I thought he was dead."

Hermione stiffened. She didn't want to talk about this anymore. But it wasn't Ron's fault that Draco decided to come out of hiding when he was on his honeymoon. She decided to keep it as simple as possible. "Well, he's alive, as you can see."

"Come on Hermione, that can't be all, where was he?"

"Apparently he was captured while on a business trip," Hermione said quietly, "He killed them to get away, or so he says. I don't know what to believe when it comes from him."

Ron glanced at Harry and then to Hermione again. "It doesn't sound like that's all."

"It's not," Hermione said, glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot. "He was alive for months before I even knew he was alive," she whispered. Ron's mouth fell open. "And he slept with another woman."

Ron's face went blotchy and he said very loudly, "I'll kill him!" causing a few people to look at him oddly.

"Ron, hush!" Hermione hissed, "no one is to know about this!"

"What are you going to do?" Luna asked.

"Find a lawyer," Harry supplied.

"Divorce isn't an option, you know that," Ron said.

"Yes, I know that divorce isn't possible, and Harry does too, but there has to be something that we can do. I can at least get custody of Luke." Hermione looked down at the faint design that was on the tablecloth.

"Don't worry Hermione; we'll be here for you all the way," Harry said, "I'll even testify for you in court if you need it."

It wouldn't do any good, the Malfoys would find a way to win Hermione knew, but she appreciated the gesture all the same. It was nice to know that even though they all had things going on in their lives that they supported her no matter what.

"Would you care to dance, Mrs. Malfoy?" Hermione turned from her friends and saw the dark face of Blaise Zabini smiling down at her, his hand outstretched.

"Sure," Hermione said, taking his hand and going to the dance floor. A melancholy tune began to play as they danced, sending Hermione's mood even lower.

"What's wrong Hermione? You seem a little depressed," Blaise commented after a few moments.

"Nothing," Hermione said, smiling, "I'm just tired is all."

Blaise gave a short laugh. "Come on, Hermione, I heard you talking with your friends. You don't need to hide it from me. Besides, I may be able to help you out."

Hermione frowned. How could he possibly help her? He had no idea what was going on. "What do you mean?"

"You forget that I am a lawyer," he said quietly, "not to mention the youngest wizard on the Wizengamot. I can help you."

Hermione stared at Blaise for a long time and allowed herself to be lead in lazy circles around the dance floor. Was he serious? Was he really willing to go up against the entire group of expensive lawyers the Malfoy family had? "Are you serious?" she finally said, "I mean this is a really big deal. I don't think anything like this has ever been done."

"It hasn't," Blaise replied, "but you are my friend, Hermione, and I want to help you. Besides, how can I pass up a chance to make law history?" He smiled and twirled Hermione as the song reached its climax. The room spun around her in a blur of color, but one figure stood out. Draco stood watching her, one hand in the pocket of his black suit, the other holding a glass of amber liquid. The expression on his face was emotionless, but she could feel his gaze on her the rest of the time she danced.

When the music ended, Blaise gave her a hug and whispered, "Come to my office sometime this week so we can go over the details. Remember, I'm here to help you."

"Thank you," Hermione said before turning away and straight into a wall of breathing black cloth. Before her stood her husband, the same emotionless look on his face, though his eyes told her that he was angry and he smelled as if he was on the verge of drunkenness. "Draco," she exclaimed, "you scared me!"

"Did I?" he asked, taking a large drink of his beverage, "I'm so sorry darling, I was just making sure that my lovely wife was not going astray."

"You're drunk. I'm going to sit down. I suggest you do the same, Draco, before you do something that will embarrass the both of us." She tried to push past him but Draco grabbed her wrist and held on tight.

"What are you _doing_?" she hissed, "let me go!" She glanced around to see if anyone was looking. Another song had started and no one was paying any attention. Draco led her out of the ballroom and into a small room that was sparsely furnished.

"Draco, let me go!" Hermione said loudly, reaching for the knob and pulling away from Draco. He stepped in front of her and leaned against the door. He glared at her. "Let me go, Draco, you're hurting me!"

He let go of her and hissed, "What were you doing dancing with Zabini like that?"

So this was what he had dragged her out of the ballroom for? Hermione crossed her arms. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just dancing with a friend, so stop taking everything out of proportion."

"You were practically throwing yourself at him!"

"You act as if I – I was snogging him in front of the entire world!" Hermione cried, "Besides, you shouldn't be talking!"

"Damn it Hermione!" he yelled, "Think about Luke! How do you think he would feel if he knew his mother was throwing herself at men who aren't her husband?"

How could he be trying to give her a lecture on fidelity? She had been nothing _but_ faithful to Draco all through the years she thought he was dead, and now he thought she was trying to have an affair? She hadn't thought that he could sink that low. "I cannot believe you," she said slowly, "You have no right to tell me what I can and can't do! I won't let you control my life! We may still be married by law, but the Draco I married doesn't exist anymore, and that means that I am by no means a married woman. I will be with whomever and do whatever I want!"

"Not as long as I'm here, you won't," Draco replied icily, "I won't have you parading around like a prostitute, ruining our reputations and Lucas' future!"

"I'd like to see you try," Hermione spat, "now let me out, one of us has to put on a decent act of being happily married, and I can smell that you aren't in any condition to do so."

"This isn't over," Draco said as he stepped out of the way, allowing Hermione to push past and leave the room.

**XXXXX**

Dinner was a tense affair. Hermione sent inconspicuous glares in his direction every time he took a bite of food. He ignored her completely, carrying on a conversation with the Minister of Magic.

So what if she was angry with him? He was only looking out for her and Luke. She hadn't been in the public eye for her entire life. She didn't know how merciless the press could be. One false move and she could be destroyed forever. Besides, shouldn't she be focusing on their marriage? Didn't she want to make things work?

He knew the answer was no.

Hermione stood silently by him as they mingled among their guests after dinner was over and danced with him when he asked her to dance, but she did not speak one word, even when he tried to talk to her. Finally, Draco told Hermione to go find her friends; she looked miserable standing by his side and he could stand it no longer. She said nothing, merely turned away from Draco, disappearing into the throng of people.

He didn't find anyone he really wanted to talk to, so he made his way once again to the bar.

That was when he saw her, the woman who had effectively ruined his marriage. She was standing with Potter and his friends, looking smug. But something was different; she had almost a glow about her. He looked away and began walking towards the bar again, but his eyes kept going back to her, trying to focus on the thing that was so altered about her. He watched as she waved away a glass of champagne, saying something and then dropping her hand to her abdomen and rubbing it lovingly.

His mouth gaped. Oh no. No, no, it wasn't possible. Ginny was not pregnant and there was no way that it was his. There was no reason to worry, he assured himself, the baby was Harry's. It had to be. There was no reason to panic… but then… what if it was his?

There was only one way to find out.

After getting Ginny's attention, Draco motioned for her to follow him. Upon reaching the hallway, Draco waited for Ginny to come out, and when she did, he gripped her elbow and steered her to his office, shutting the door behind them.

"Draco, what is all this about?" Ginny asked, gripping the lapels of Draco's jacket, "Did you miss me like I missed you?"

Draco pushed her away as she tried to kiss him and ran his hands through his hair before hissing, "Is it mine?"

Ginny tried to wrap her arms around his neck. Draco grabbed her wrists roughly and held her away from him. "Let go of me Draco, you're hurting me!" she cried, trying to pull away.

"Answer me!" Draco bellowed, "Is it mine?"

Ginny smiled coyly and replied, "Is what yours?"

"The baby! Is it mine?!"

"Oh Draco," she sighed, "You of all people should know the answer to that."

"Don't play mind games with me woman! Tell me the truth!" he yelled.

"Oh but I am, Draco, I am."

**XXXXX**

A/N: Wow! What's going to happen next?

Thanks so much for reviewing: **lrmorena, pstibbons, crystalight22, NessaCullen23, snapeluna, team fred, Hitsugi's Lover, christy86, Harry-lover12189, Darkness holds me tightly, Kwebbeltje, mentarisenja** They are greatly appreciated!

As always, leave a review! They are helpful, and I like to know what you think!


	5. Forgiveness is Futile

**DISCLSIMER: I got a lot of presents for my graduation, but Harry Potter was not one of them.**

**Chapter 5: Forgiveness is Futile**

Hermione had seen him inconspicuously leave the room, Ginny not far behind him, then enter again a while later, his hair disheveled and a thin sheen of sweat on his face. Oh, she could not _believe_ the _nerve_ of that man! He had asked her to come, claiming that they needed to act like a happily married couple, and then he went off with that bitch! Well, if he expected her to just stand there and take it like a good wife, letting him do whatever he wanted but expecting total faithfulness from her, he had another thing coming.

The first time he had claimed it was a love potion, but this just proved that he was lying about that too. And she had a very low tolerance for liars. She saw him walk towards her, a blank look on his face. Probably thinking of his recent rendezvous, she thought bitterly. Turning away from him, Hermione started talking to a couple she had never seen before, acting very interested in what they were talking about.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco reach his hand out to touch her but then decided against it, turning and walking away out the door and into the gardens. It was a good idea on his part, as Hermione really didn't want to cause a scene when she ripped him limb from limb with her bare hands.

And since her husband had shown such little consideration for their little agreement, Hermione saw no need in holding up her end of the deal. Excusing herself from the people she had so eagerly begun talking to minutes earlier, Hermione left the ballroom in search of her son, intent on leaving in front of as many people as possible and hoping that her favorite reporter would be busy taking notes and lots of pictures.

Yes, she decided heading up the grand staircase, revenge was indeed very sweet.

**XXXXX**

There had to be a logical way to deal with the onslaught of emotions Draco felt as he sat on the secluded stone bench he had been on a while earlier with Hermione, doing their happy little interview with the _Daily Prophet_. There was no reason to panic, he told himself, and the baby was in no way his. But then what if it was? He remembered very little of that fateful night, thankfully, but just because he couldn't remember doing anything but kissing Ginny didn't mean they didn't do a whole lot more.

And how would he be able to explain the situation to Hermione? He could just imagine telling her, "Well, not only did we have sex, ruining our marriage forever, but now she is having my bastard child! What a happy little family we will make!" He snorted. Yes, that would go over splendidly. Why not give Hermione one more thing to hate him for? He had not a chance in the world, anyway.

Pathetic, he thought, he was completely and utterly pathetic. Here he was, a twenty-three year old man with a seemingly endless amount of money and power, and he was scared to face his own wife. He had almost began talking to her inside but had paused when he realized that he had no idea what to say to the woman who was always criticizing him for his past and just trying to find things to get mad about.

And he was scared out of his wits of her. He was scared that she might find a loophole in the legal system and somehow escape their marriage and his life forever, he was scared of never seeing her or his son ever again, but most of all, Draco Malfoy was scared of her opinion of him.

He knew that she was angry with him and that she blamed him for everything that had gone wrong in their marriage, and she had every right to be, but he had hoped that by this point she could have seen how truly sorry he was for everything. Instead, she probably thought of him as a nagging insect that just wouldn't go away.

Maybe he was just taking the wrong approach. Maybe instead of sending letters and expecting her to come at his every call was not the way to go. Maybe he should start begging at her feet, he mused with a smirk; it would be a rare sight to see a Malfoy begging for something. It wouldn't work, but the gesture would show that he was willing to sacrifice his pride for the sake of their marriage. And he would be more than happy to do it if it meant that he would be able to wake up next to her every morning for the rest of his life.

Light footsteps forced Draco to stop pondering and grip his wand tightly, a reaction that he had never quite been able to shake when the war ended. Around the corner of a large green hedge walked his father, looking rather pensive as he ambled over to Draco, sitting down across from him.

For a few moments, he remained silent, plucking a blue flower from its stem and pulling the petals off one by one. Draco watched the petals fall doing little acrobatic moves as they fell to the ground. "I've talked with the lawyers and told them of your current situation," he said finally, "They will be ready to present your case as soon as tomorrow, if you are so inclined."

Draco stared at his father for a long moment, marveling at how he could treat the whole situation so nonchalantly while his whole world was turmoil. "Thank you," he said quietly, and he meant it. He hadn't thought of contacting the lawyers until he was absolutely sure that Hermione was going to go through with her plan.

"She'll come through, you know," Lucius replied.

"Oh? And how can you be so sure about that?" Draco asked, looking at the pile of blue petals on the ground in a neat mound, reminding him of the bump that was evident on Ginny Potter and making him want to vomit like he had after running away from the red haired monster.

"Your mother did," he explained after another brief pause. Draco's eyes darted to his father's face. He was still sitting there placidly, his face smooth as if he was simply talking about the weather.

"Mother?!" Draco exclaimed, "My mother?"

"Don't look so shocked, Draco," his father continued, "it's only natural to be curious about other women that are not your wife. Your mother understood this, and though she was upset in the beginning, her love for me was stronger than her anger and we reached an understanding." Draco gawked at him open-mouthed. "A woman must understand that her place is at her husband's side; she must be obedient and loyal to her husband, and above all, she should never tell her husband what to do.

"Your wife must learn her place in this family and this society, Draco, otherwise you will never get her back."

"So you're saying I should brainwash my wife into being obedient like a dog," Draco spat, amazed at how angry he was becoming.

"Precisely," Lucius replied lazily. He began examining his fingernails.

"But Father, you and I both know that Hermione is too smart for that to work. Besides, I don't really feel comfortable with brainwashing; I rather like her the way she is, spitefulness and all."

"And I'm sure that you will like her more when she is warm and willing in your bed."

"That way I can have my cake and eat it too, right?" Draco hissed. Lucius nodded a devilish smile on his lips.

Draco gripped his wand tightly, wanting to curse his father for saying the things he did. How could he have had an affair on his mother? He knew that their marriage hadn't been one based on love, more like social advancement, but how could he do that to her? His mother didn't deserve to be treated with that little of respect. She deserved to be put on a pedestal!

And so did Hermione, Draco realized. She deserved so much better than him.

The realization deeply troubled Draco. Without a word, he got up and wandered off, going further into the gardens. He knew that in order to be truly happy, Hermione would need to be rid of him. He had caused her too much pain, and she wanted out. The expression about loving someone so much that they let them go came to his mind.

But he couldn't allow that to happen. He was too selfish to let the woman he loved out of his life. He wasn't Harry freaking Potter; he wanted what he wanted, and he wanted Hermione.

Making his way back to the Manor, Draco was determined to spend the rest of the evening with his wife, even if she didn't like it.

Upon entering the ballroom, he began looking around for the unmistakable form of Hermione, and was frustrated when he didn't immediately see her. Well, he thought, maybe she also stepped out for some air. Taking a seat at the nearest table, Draco looked out into the night, waiting for her to return.

"Mr. Malfoy!" he heard someone call. It was the infamous Rita Skeeter. Draco groaned before placing a smirk on his face.

"Yes?" he asked, expecting more questions about his long absence.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said again, an air of importance emanating from her, "How do you feel, knowing that your wife and son aren't living with you?"

The smirk was wiped off his face, instantly replaced by shock and anger. "Excuse me?" he spat.

**XXXXX**

The story made the front page of the Daily Prophet. DRACO'S DISASTER was in large letters that took up half the front page, along with several pictures; one of Draco and herself kissing, one of them looking away from each other during dinner, and one of Draco standing alone looking out into the night, sipping on a glass of alcohol. Hermione smiled to herself as she took a sip of her morning coffee and began reading.

_DRACO'S DISASTER!_

_As two hundred of Draco and Hermione (Granger) Malfoy's closest friends gathered to welcome the host back from nearly four years of absence, no one suspected that the perfect life the couple seemingly shares is indeed a falsehood._

_This reporter sat down with the couple as they shared Mr. Malfoy's daring escape from captivity claiming he did what was necessary to survive. Young Mrs. Malfoy left soon after, tears in her eyes. Malfoy's obvious concern for his wife hindered the continuation of the interview, and soon after his wife was out of sight, he claimed he needed to go comfort her._

_But did he? It is from a reliable source that this reporter knows that Draco was found to be sitting at the bar, drinking rather heavily, as he did throughout the entire evening. In fact, Draco was seen more with a drink in his hand than with his wife, who was diligently making the rounds, playing the part of hostess perfectly._

_So why all the tension between the couple? This reporter sat down one on one with Hermione Malfoy, and asked what was going on. "It's quite clear that things haven't been going well between us for some time," she commented, gripping the couple's son, Lucas, tightly, "He has done things that I cannot forgive him for."_

_What things, we all want to know? "Lies, mostly," was her reply, "but he has done something much, much worse."_

_You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen, Draco Malfoy had an affair with none other than Harry Potter's wife, Ginny! Says Hermione, "It's funny how you think you know everything about someone and then something happens that totally throws everything you thought was true out the window. I never thought that he could do something like this to me and our son, and with the woman who used to be one of my best friends! It is simply unbelievable."_

_Mrs. Malfoy is now living in her own house in an undisclosed location for the safety of her son and her own piece of mind._

_When asked about the current situation between the two, or should I say three, Draco denied that anything was happening and claimed that his wife must have drank a little too much champagne to make those accusations._

_This reporter only has one question. Has alcohol dulled your senses and made you forget things, Mr. Malfoy?_

_Stay tuned as this story develops further._

Ah, Rita Skeeter did exactly what Hermione had wanted her to do. Public opinion of Draco Malfoy would diminish soon enough, giving her the advantage when she took him to court. Smiling again, Hermione knew that it was the start of a very good day.

**XXXXX**

Harry Potter sat at the breakfast table in shock. He had just read the front page of the _Prophet_ and could not believe what he read. No, Hermione must be really desperate. He knew that she and Ginny weren't getting along, but that was no reason to accuse her of being the one to sleep with Malfoy! Surely his wife wouldn't do that.

Or would she?

Harry looked to his wife. She smiled to him as she put a strawberry in her mouth and went about trying to smooth out James' unruly hair. No, Harry thought, his wife loved him… she would never jeopardize everything they had together for Malfoy.

The memory of Ron's wedding flashed through his head. "_You stole him from me!"_ came her voice. _"Yes Draco, and you stole him from me!" __"He loved me, Hermione. He __loved __me. What do you think of your dear husband now?" "We were in love. In fact, we planned on marrying as soon as I was done with school, but then __you__ showed up and __fucked__ him, you dirty little tramp! I suppose he had to marry you because you were having his bastard child!"_

Dear God, it was true! Hermione was telling the truth when she said that Ginny had been the one to sleep with Malfoy! He frowned as he looked at his seemingly innocent wife. She smiled at him again and asked, "What's the matter Harry?"

Slowly pushing the newspaper across the table, he replied in a low voice, "Ginny, we need to talk."

**XXXXX**

A/N: Ooh! Exciting! Lol

As always, thanks for reviewing: **snapeluna, Team Dramione, RandomObsessivePsychoFangirl, Darkness holds me tightly, vampiregurl, Hitsugi's Lover, sarahr85, Kwebbeltje, christy86, mentarisenja, lrmorena**

Tell me what you think!


	6. Dangerous Men

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter was right in front of me, but the wind blew him away.**

**Chapter 6: Dangerous Men**

"Talk?" Ginny asked, glancing nervously at the headline. "About what?"

"I think you know," Harry replied, crossing his arms. "How long did you think you could go without me finding out?"

"Harry, what on earth are you talking about?" Ginny picked up the paper and read the article quickly, her face becoming red and her mouth falling open. "This?" she asked once she had read it, "This is what we need to talk about? Harry you can't be serious. You know that I love you."

"It doesn't mean that you weren't messing around with Malfoy," Harry hissed, "How can you do this to me? To our family, our children?" He felt like crying, and he was so angry that he wanted to hit something.

"I didn't do anything!" Ginny said loudly, "Hermione is deranged! She just can't understand the fact that her husband isn't interested in her anymore… that, that he wants someone else!"

"And that someone being you," Harry exclaimed, rising from his chair and crossing the kitchen, leaning against the sink and looking out the window. The sun was barely up and already his day was ruined.

"Harry, you have to believe me! You know I wouldn't do something as horrible as to cheat on you," Ginny pleaded behind him.

Harry turned to look at his wife. "You know at one point I thought that Hermione was wrong, that you weren't who she said you were, that she was just acting out of anger and jealousy. But now I can see that she was right. Your actions of late haven't exactly screamed innocent, Ginny," he said calmly, "And how can I trust you when I saw you practically drooling over just the _sight_ of Malfoy last night?"

"Harry, I -"

Harry held up his hand and she went silent. "I love you Ginny; from the moment I saw you, I knew that I would marry you someday, and we would be together for better or for worse. Were times really so bad that you had to find comfort from someone else? What was going so wrong with me that you had to sleep with Draco Malfoy? I cannot believe that you would treat our marriage with so little respect. Does the ring on your hand mean anything to you? Did you even _listen_ to the vows we said when we married?"

"Of course I want to be with you, Harry! I married you didn't I? I know we said for better or worse, but… but oh, I don't know!" She got up from her chair and came towards Harry slowly. As she approached, Harry noticed that she had tears in her eyes. "Harry, you have to believe me! I went to Malfoy Manor because I thought that Narcissa had invited me to tea! And then when I got there, there is Draco sitting pleasantly, sipping his tea.

"'My apologies for having to trick you, Ginny,' he had said, 'I'm sure you understand why it would be a shock to receive a letter from someone who is supposed to be dead.' I said it was alright and sat down; wondering what was the reason for the invitation. And as I began sipping my beverage, I felt the most peculiar sensation; I found Draco unbelievably attractive! You have to believe me when I say that I would never cheat on you, Harry, by sheer choice! I love you," she whispered in his ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Harry didn't know whether to believe her statement or not. She looked like she was telling the truth, but his gut was screaming that it was all a lie. Peeling her arms from his neck, Harry pushed her gently away before replying, "I just need some time to think, Ginny, I need to be alone for a bit."

Turning away from Ginny, who was crying in earnest, Harry headed for the front door, leaving his little family behind him.

**XXXXX**

It was a good thing that Draco Malfoy was alone in the dining room as the _Daily Prophet_ arrived.

Furious was nothing compared to what he felt as he read the paper. _DRACO'S DISASTER!_ screamed the headline. Well, he would show that Rita Skeeter what a true disaster was. Her career would nonexistent when he was done with it.

He smirked as he threw the paper on the table, picking up his fork and stabbing his eggs, imagining Skeeter's head in the place of his food. Why would that woman do something like that? He knew that Hermione had left early – he couldn't figure out for the life of him why – but was that any reason to go around making accusations?

But then... what if Hermione made a deal with her and this was all a plan to destroy him? He wouldn't be surprised. Well, two could play at that game. Well, he was done with being the nice guy. He would make sure Hermione regretted ever pulling this on him; he would hit her where it really hurt… he was going to get Lucas.

Getting up quickly, Draco hurried to his office, writing a quick letter to his lawyers, telling them that there was an urgent situation that he needed to address them about. He then proceeded to rip the headline from the paper and write in large letters NICE TRY across the story, sending it to Hermione.

Minutes later, two of Draco's lawyers arrived. One was quite old, the other young. They looked menacing, one of Draco's favorite things about them. Even the best of lawyers were intimidated by them. There was no way he could loose with them on his side. "I presume you know what this is about," he said as they sat down across the desk from him.

"The article?" the younger of the two asked. Jacob Chalmers was his name, Draco thought.

He nodded. "So you understand why you're here."

"Naturally," the older said, "you want to take down this Rita Skeeter, correct?"

"Yes, but that's not all. I want to take my son away from Hermione indefinitely."

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," the older man said lazily, making a note on the paper in his hand. "We will have a case ready for you in a few hours."

Draco nodded. "The sooner the better," he replied.

His lawyers stood and shook Draco's hand, then flooed back to their office.

Within the hour, the older man returned, a file in his hand. "Mr. Malfoy," he said quietly, "I have happened upon some interesting information." He paused, probably for additional drama.

"Well?" Draco demanded, slamming his fists on the desk, "What is it?"

"It seems as if your wife has been in contact with a rather dangerous man," the elder Mr. Chalmers said, "One Chevalier Allin."

Draco's mouth gaped. He and Chevalier had been friends when they were young and had planned on going to Hogwarts together until Chev's parents had decided to send him to Durmstrang. He remembered visiting him when the summer holidays came around, but by then, Chev had been different. He was cold and extremely rude to Draco, making comments about his family. From that day on, Draco and he had been enemies. And when he heard that Chev had murdered an entire family in the dead of the night and then disappeared, he had been concerned for the wellbeing of his wife and unborn child.

He knew Chev was a very dangerous man. "How exactly were they acquainted?" Draco asked when he regained his composure.

"According to my sources, Mrs. Malfoy was seen with Chevalier, or a man who looked very much like him, at the local hotel in Diagon Alley about a month ago. They were seen talking and she was seen with him in Muggle London a few days later."

How could Hermione be so stupid? Didn't she remember him telling her about Chev when he read about the murders in the Daily Prophet? Didn't she remember him telling her to stay away from strangers? And Muggle London? What on earth were they doing there, together?

And then it hit him. His private investigator hadn't been able to locate Hermione anywhere in London. She wasn't in the wizarding part of London! She was hiding out in Muggle London, and that meant that Chev was probably with her when she had been at her house! He had to get to Hermione immediately and warn her of the danger she was in!

"Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?" Mr. Chalmers asked. Draco snapped out of his thoughts and nodded. The old man shrugged and continued. "Now, to get to the case. As you very well know, Chevalier is a very dangerous man. And as your wife was seen with him, we may be able to get you full custody of your son by saying that she was knowingly putting Lucas in danger."

Draco nodded. "Yes, yes, that's fine," he said, still thinking about how close Hermione and Luke had come to being killed.

"Very well, sir, if you approve of this idea, I will have the papers drawn up immediately."

Draco nodded his head, and didn't even notice when the man stepped into the green flames that erupted in the fireplace and disappeared.

**XXXXX**

Hermione's day, after such a wonderful beginning, was turning out to be rather awful.

After eating their breakfast, Hermione and Luke had gone to the park, where Luke showed off his ability to move things with his mind to the other Muggle children, getting some strange looks from the kids and their parents. And the fact that he kept referring to magic and his mommy being a witch didn't help much either. And to add to that, Hermione wasn't feeling good from all the champagne she drank at the party the previous night.

After she opened the door to the house, Hermione ran to the bathroom and threw up her breakfast. As she sat with her head over the toilet, thinking that she hadn't had that much to drink last night, had she?, Hermione realized something.

She was late. And not the late for a meeting kind of late.

She swore under her breath. It wasn't possible she thought, she would have had to have slept with someone.... "Oh no, no, no!" she groaned, leaning on the wall behind her. "Alright, just calm down, Hermione, there has to be a logical explanation for this."

Yes, there just had to be an explanation. There _had_ to. Well, she had been stressed out and emotionally distraught, and that could always be it. And she _had_ had quite a bit to drink last night… but champagne had never made her sick before.

There was only one way to really be sure.

Picking up Luke, who had been standing outside the door looking in worriedly, Hermione walked to the fireplace and threw some floo powder in it and calling for Harry's house, hoping he would be there so he could watch Luke for an hour or so.

She would have thought the house was deserted when she walked in, except she could hear someone crying. "Hello?" she called out, hoping something hadn't happened.

"Harry?" she heard Ginny call through the shut door of their bedroom. She opened the door quickly, a smile on her face and tears running down her cheeks and stopped, her smile becoming a furious look. "What do you want?" she spat, putting her hands on her hips.

Hermione held Luke tighter and said, "Where's Harry? I need to speak with him."

"I wouldn't know," Ginny hissed, "Since your little article came out this morning, Harry has disappeared! He was furious! Why would you do something like this to ruin my marriage?!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know, because you ruined mine?" she exclaimed. "Now, I really don't have time for this right now, Ginny, I need to see Harry."

"Why? So you can sleep with him to get back at me?"

Hermione set Luke on the floor and told him to find James and play, Mommy had some things she needed to take care of. After Luke was safely out of earshot, Hermione approached Ginny and crossed her arms. "Look," Hermione said slowly, "I don't know who you think you are, but I have never had any intention of sleeping with Harry. It is below me to resort to cheating on my husband. I have morals, unlike you."

Ginny's face became red. "Only because you know that Harry would never want someone like you. Honestly, Hermione did you really think that you could keep someone like Draco Malfoy when you couldn't even make my_ brother_ like you?"

"You know what, Ginny? I think you're jealous that Draco loved me, and still does! I think it is funny that you have to resort to trying to degrade me just to make yourself feel better because of the fact that he married me and not you."

Ginny smirked. "You forget the fact that Draco came to me last night, Hermione, while you were playing hostess. And you know what? After we were finished, he told me that I was the best he'd ever had!"

"Liar!" Hermione yelled, pulling out her wand.

"And you want to know something else?" Ginny continued, her smirk becoming an evil smile, "The baby I'm carrying is his, and he is happy about it! He told me he can't wait to see what it looks like!"

"Liar!" Hermione screeched again, grabbing Ginny by the shoulders and shaking her roughly. "You have ruined my entire life! You always have been jealous of me and what Draco and I had. And when you saw an opportunity you just had to strike, didn't you? You just couldn't get over the fact that he never liked you in the first place and that he loved me, not because I was a whore, like you, but because of me just being myself, because I didn't throw myself on him like some bitch in heat!"

"That's not what I heard," Ginny spat.

Hermione had no idea why she did what she did next. She knew that Ginny was pregnant, and maybe that was why… maybe she hoped just a little that if she hit her hard enough she would lose the baby… but the next thing she knew Ginny was on the floor beneath her, the skin around her right eye already becoming bruised.

"You bitch!" Ginny screamed, "do you realize what you've just done?"

Hermione looked down at the red haired woman who was now clutching her stomach. "Oh no…" Hermione said. Ginny began moaning. "Ginny! I'm sorry…"

"Shut up and get me to the hospital!" Ginny screamed.

Hermione levitated Ginny and flooed to St. Mungo's quickly, leaving her with a healer and rushing back minutes later with Luke and James. She sent an owl to Harry and then proceeded to pace the waiting room, waiting for any news on Ginny and the baby.

She didn't know what she would do if Ginny lost the baby. She would never be able to forgive herself, even if it was the bastard child of Draco and Ginny. No innocent baby deserved to die. It didn't choose to be made.

"Hermione!" Harry called, running into the room, "What the hell happened?"

When Hermione saw Harry, she started to cry. He looked half crazed with worry. "Oh Harry, I am so sorry! I went to your house to see if you were there so you could watch Luke for a while and when I got there… well, one thing lead to another, and then Ginny was on the floor grabbing her stomach… and I – I think she might be losing the baby!"

Harry sank into the nearest chair and barely noticed when James attached himself to Harry's leg, getting saliva all over his pants. He put his face in his hands and sighed. "How could you do this, Hermione? I know you two don't get along, but was that any reason to try to harm my child?"

Hermione looked at Harry and wiped her eyes. If only he knew the truth… but if she told him, it would break him. And she also knew that even if the child really was Draco's, he would do his best to raise it as his own. "Harry, I -" she paused. Was she really sorry? Or deep, deep down inside, was she glad that Ginny might lose the baby just because she knew it wasn't Harry's? "I'm sorry. It was all an accident."

Harry looked up at her. "An accident? Hermione, you may have killed my child. If Ginny loses the baby I can never forgive you."

Hermione looked down at her feet. "I understand, Harry, I understand." Slowly, she walked over to Luke, who was sitting quietly in one of the chairs. She picked him up and walked towards the exit. But before she left, she turned and asked, "Will you let me know either way?" Harry nodded before putting his head back in his hands.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Yes, I know. Hermione is being totally OOC. But, everything is happening for a reason. :)

Thanks for reviewing: **christy86, lovemeloveyou, vampiregurl, TheDarkLordsQueen, mentarisenja, snapeluna, Harry-lover12189, Enilas, Team Dramione, Dianafefe1, crystalight22, Hitsugi's Lover, Darkness holds me tightly, Kwebbeltje**

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	7. The Shock of it All!

**DISCLAIMER: I only own Larry Dotter, Harry Potter's evil twin.**

**Chapter 7: The Shock of it All!**

Hermione walked along the corridor like a zombie. She hadn't been able to leave St. Mungo's. She just had to know what was going on. How could her punching Ginny in the eye have made her loose the baby? It seemed just a little off.

She gently moved Luke to her other arm, trying not to wake him. He had fallen asleep sometime earlier, exhausted by the mornings events. Kissing his forehead, Hermione tried to imagine what life would have been like had she not had Luke. The little boy had played such a huge role in her life that she could hardly believe that at one point she had almost lost him.

It had been not too long after Draco disappeared and she had been so wrought with grief that she had wanted to kill herself. She had stopped eating and for days on end she would wander through the house, not being able to sleep or think. She was numb.

She had felt like her life was over. And on one of those sleepless nights, Hermione threw herself down the stairs, hoping to break her neck. But instead of blessed nothingness, Hermione woke up in St. Mungo's intensive care unit, many magical machines beeping and buzzing around her. She remembered only the fuzzy forms of Harry and Ron sitting in chairs beside her, and Blaise talking quietly with Narcissa.

But what she remembered with crystal clarity was the tiny machine that was stuck on her abdomen with a wire that led to a small screen. And on that screen was a picture of her baby, weak, but alive. She wasn't proud of what she did that day when she decided she didn't want to live anymore. But when she saw that little baby on the screen, she decided that no matter what, she would live for her child, protect it no matter what it cost her. From that moment on, Hermione lived for Luke. He was her reason for waking up in the morning, for going on. He had literally saved her life.

And she knew that Ginny – the horrible woman she was – felt the same way about her children, no matter who the father. And she hoped for that reason that the baby would live.

Unconsciously, Hermione dropped her hand to her abdomen. What if she was pregnant? She tried not to think about how it would make matters worse. She could just imagine telling Draco. He would probably demand that she stay with him and then try to run her life. No, she decided, if she really was going to have a baby, Draco was going to stay out of it for the time being – at least until she was mentally prepared for his reaction.

She made her way back to where Harry was waiting. He was aimlessly flicking through an old magazine and looking at the clock every few seconds. Worry was etched across his face. "Any news yet?" she asked quietly, sitting down beside him. Harry shook his head no before going back to looking through the magazine.

Five, then ten minutes went by. And finally, a pleasant looking young woman came to the door. "Mr. Potter?" she asked, looking at the chart she had in her hand.

Harry shot out of his chair, dropping the magazine on the floor. "Is Ginny alright? Is the baby?"

The woman smiled and said, "Both mother and baby are doing well." Harry practically fell to the ground, a few tears leaking from his eyes. "Your wife just had a mild shock, but I can assure you that everything will be fine. She just needs to rest for a while. We will keep her overnight just to make sure."

"Where is she?" he demanded, rushing to pick up James.

"Follow me," the nurse said, turning and walking down the hall that she came through. Harry followed her quickly and disappeared. She could hear him asking many questions as they went farther and farther down the hall.

Smiling faintly, Hermione left the room and made her way to the nearest fireplace, flooing to her house.

There was barely time for her to brush the dust off herself and Luke before an urgent knocking on the front door demanded her attention. She laid Luke down on the couch and hurried to the door.

"Mrs. Draco Malfoy?" a man asked in a gruff voice. He was wearing a black suit and had a large envelope in his hands.

"Yes, I'm Hermione Malfoy," Hermione said, looking around, wondering where the cameras were hiding.

"You've been served," the man said, holding out the large envelope. Hermione frowned and took it. The man walked away without another word. Baffled, Hermione stared at the envelope in her hand for a moment before shutting the door and walking slowly to the kitchen, sitting at the table and forcing herself to open it.

It couldn't be divorce papers, unfortunately she decided, unless Draco wanted to kill the both of them. But she knew that he wouldn't do that… he was too interested in himself. Letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, Hermione pulled the papers out.

A lump formed in her throat as she looked over the papers. Only certain words stood out, and Hermione found herself breathing heavily as she got farther and farther into the papers. "Incompetent mother" "Paternal custody requested" "No maternal visitation rights" and "knowingly endangered child" seemed to pop off the page screaming at her.

_What_ was he _thinking_?! Angry tears burned their way down her face as she slammed the wretched things onto the table. How was she in any way an incompetent mother? She had been nothing but loving and caring towards her child since the day he was born! And who was he to take him away from her? He had no idea what it was like to be a parent. He hadn't been the one to stay up all night taking care of a newborn baby. He hadn't been the one to raise Luke singlehandedly. He didn't know the first thing about the word parenting.

Well, she would fight it every step of the way. If Draco thought she would submit willingly to Luke being taken away from her, he had another thing coming. She would go through Hell and back before she let Lucas from her sight.

Getting up, Hermione found a small piece of paper and scribbled a note to Blaise Zabini asking him to come over right away. As soon as the owl was out of sight, Hermione walked to the couch were she had laid Luke and picked him up, holding him close. Inhaling the baby scent of him, Hermione kissed his white-blond hair and wiped her tears away. She had to be strong for Luke; she had to fight with everything she had to keep him.

And she was determined to win.

**XXXXX**

In all actuality, Draco felt rather bad for what he did to Hermione. Not that she didn't deserve it. After the stunt with the newspaper article, he wanted payback. He needed to show Hermione that enough was enough, and he was serious.

He didn't want to make a big deal out of something that wasn't, but frankly, he didn't see any other options. There was only so many times he could say what he wanted without taking action. And besides, there was no time to waste when Hermione was putting their child in danger. He couldn't… no, wouldn't… take the chance of his only son being harmed; it was just too much for him to bear.

He just hoped he wasn't taking action too late. Who knew when Chev would strike next?

Finishing his drink in one large gulp, Draco made his way from the office he had been sitting in for the past hour, debating on whether to bring his lawyers back and make them forget everything he said earlier in the day, to his father's study. He knocked on the door softly before entering.

Lucius was sitting behind the massive oak desk that had belonged to the Malfoy family for centuries looking through an American newspaper.

"Draco, you do need to get your wife under control. This foolishness between you and Potter's wife will be bad for business."

Draco resisted the urge to say something vile to his father, though it was proving to be extremely difficult. He had been through this before; the whole cheating thing; and had to know what to do. Though why he was asking his father's advice was beyond him.

"Father, last night, you told me that you went through the same thing with Mother."

"Yes," Lucius drawled lazily, writing something on a piece of paper and then picking up another newspaper, "Though your mother was much less vocal about the whole situation."

Draco rolled his eyes before replying, "But you know how to fix messes..." He paused, not quite sure how to admit that he was not strong enough to do it himself. Lucius peeked over the top of the newspaper. Draco sighed and said in a rush, "Father, I need your help."

"With?" he asked.

Draco sighed again. "I think you know." Why was Lucius making him admit it?

He watched as Lucius set the newspaper down and rest his elbows on the desk before replying, "Your wife?"

Draco nodded.

"Listen to me, Draco. I am going to say this one time, and one time only. Stop trying to get her forgiveness. Stop begging at her feet – it makes you appear weak. Women need strong men to care for them. You need to show her who is the boss in this relationship – it is the only way you will get her back."

Frustrated, Draco sat down across from his father and said, "Father, I've contacted the lawyers."

Lucius raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

"They've drawn up the papers to obtain full custody of Lucas. I had them say that Hermione willingly put him in danger, which isn't completely a lie, but it is uncertain whether it is really true. And I'm afraid that I've lost my only chance at redemption. By now, she has probably received them, and it is too late to take it back."

"Well, well, well. Draco you have gotten yourself into quite a mess. I'm sorry but there is not much I can do to help you… I could erase her memory, but I don't know where she is… what was this you said about your wife putting my grandchild in danger?"

Draco cringed at the thought of Chev being near Hermione and Luke. It almost made him want to vomit. "She was seen with Chevalier Allin. You remember, the man who murdered that entire family in their sleep?"

"Yes, I remember. I thought you warned Hermione of him?"

"I did. But you know how Hermione is; she can't ever see the bad in anyone even if they are a murderer." He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his father, who had gotten up sharply and was rifling through a stack of folders on another table.

After producing a green folder, Lucius returned to his desk and opened it, taking out its contents and handing them to Draco.

It was a very extensive history of Chevalier Allin. From minor offences to the murders - which numbered twenty three in total – there was everything one could wish to know about the man, including his last known appearance deep within Muggle London.

"Have you been looking for him for long, Father?" Draco asked excitedly.

Lucius nodded and replied, "That is part of the reason I am here at the Manor. I have been following him for a few months now. He is a very hard wizard to track down; he is good at disguising himself and covering his tracks, and I just happened upon a clue not long before I came home. I am closing in on him, so you won't have to worry about Lucas for much longer."

Draco let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and looked at his father, barely resisting the urge to hug him. "Thank you, Father. Now I can stop this whole legal mess." He smiled as he handed the stack of papers back to Lucius.

"Not so fast, Draco. The legal system is more complex than you think. It takes more than just a visit to the lawyers to undo what has already been done."

"So what are you saying? That I can't stop this trial from happening?"

Lucius looked at him gravely. "That is exactly what I am saying."

Draco glared at his father. "Isn't there something we can do?" he spat, "How much money will it take to persuade them?"

Lucius picked up his newspaper again and replied, "They won't take bribes, Draco; that is why they are our lawyers. That is what we pay them to do."

What? How in the hell could the lawyers not do what Draco wanted them to do? Now that the whole Chevalier situation was taken care of, there was no reason to take Lucas away from Hermione. Now, he could go back to winning her affection, go back to showing Hermione that he was sorry. Besides, it was just a stupid mistake, an overreaction! He never meant for the stupid papers to go through… it would ruin everything!

Draco walked to his own office in a daze, trying to think of something to do. There had to be something he could do to fix things….

**XXXXX**

Ginny Potter sat in a comfortable chair next to a window that overlooked the moonlit courtyard below, thinking how wonderful her life was. Harry and James had left sometime earlier, leaving her to recover from her shock earlier in the day.

Everything was working out wonderfully, going exactly according to plan. Harry, sweet man that he was, asked to be forgiven for thinking that she would cheat on him, saying he would have a talk with _Hermione_ about the matter of trying to both destroy her marriage and kill her at the same time, along with her baby….

Rubbing her hand across her distended abdomen, Ginny smiled faintly as she thought of the day her second child would be born, with white blond hair and stunning gray eyes… just like its father. She just knew that when Draco saw his child for the first time, he would forget all about Hermione and their bastard child and would come to her side and love her like she knew he did.

Yes, once Hermione was out of the picture, once their child was born, Draco would be hers once and for all.

And though she did love Harry, it was nothing compared to the love she felt for Draco. Harry would understand… she would make him understand.

A light knocking came from the door, and Ginny looked to see Healer Geronn, the handsome young healer who had been taking care of her since the beginning of her pregnancy, come in, the horrible looking apparatus Muggles called a syringe in his hand. He smiled at her as he approached, and Ginny felt her knees go soft.

She stood and walked to the bed with his assistance, laying down and exposing her abdomen.

Healer Geronn stared at it for a moment before saying, "You know I could lose my license for this… I could go to Azkaban for the rest of my life."

Ginny smiled sweetly at him and replied, "I won't tell if you won't."

He smiled and said, "Your secret is safe with me. Ready?"

Ginny nodded, and then gasped as she felt the needle puncture her skin. Closing her eyes tightly, she waited for the pain to stop. When it finally did, she asked, "You're sure this will work?"

The healer smiled and nodded. "You should start to notice the difference within seventy-two hours."

"Good," Ginny responded. Yes, things were defiantly going according to plan, and soon Draco would be with her where he belonged….

**XXXXX**

A/N: Sorry it's been so long! I had a surprisingly busy summer. So, instead of doing my mountain of homework (this aspect of college really sucks), I just had to get this out!

Anyway, thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed! **iloveebfanfics, mentarisenja, sarahr85, Harry-lover12189, Team Dramione, vampiregurl, Dianafefe1, snapeluna, Hitsugi's Lover, christy86, ****lrmorena,OBLuvr13, crystalight22, mE, kalsmalfoy, Elijah, Molly Goode, dreamysilverdragon08, Darkness holds me tightly, fangrl123, just1love, wiltedroses1232**

As always, review! I like to know what you think.


	8. The World Turned Upside Down

**DISCLAIMER: I'm in college. I can't afford to own anything besides some EasyMac and Ramen noodles. **

**Chapter 8: The World Turned Upside Down**

The sound of her high heeled shoes clicking on the marble floor seemed to drown out the usual noisy morning bustle of witches and wizards hurrying towards their jobs in the Ministry of Magic, though no one took heed of the woman who was making her way to the court rooms with her shoulders back and head held high. No one took notice of the determined look on Hermione Malfoy's face as she disappeared down a staircase that would lead her to her lawyer and good friend Blaise Zabini's office. No one noticed, except for Draco Malfoy.

He hadn't seen her in over three weeks, not since he had sent the legal papers to her saying that he wanted full custody of their son. There was no doubt that she was mad - furious was more like it - at him for doing what he did, and he had regretted it since a few hours after he did it, but he hadn't expected her to take action so soon. He had hoped that she would come to him – even if it meant that he be subjected to hexes and jinxes that she sent his way – just so he could beg on his hands and knees.

Hell, in the first two weeks after the whole ordeal started, Draco hadn't the slightest idea as to whether Hermione was even alive! He had nearly driven himself crazy when his newest private investigator hadn't turned up anything in muggle London, and when her friends refused to give him any information, claiming they didn't know where she was, he began envisioning the worst possible things that could have happened to her and Lucas… an automobile accident, perhaps? Or maybe she had choked on something? What if that madman Chev had murdered them?

But no, one morning Draco was rudely awoken from his drunken slumber by his house-elf, Tiny, saying that there was someone at the door to see him and they wouldn't take no for an answer. So Draco had stumbled down the stairs and opened the door, squinting as the bright sunlight hit his eyes, sending a wave of pain through his head that made his stomach turn. "What the hell do you want?" he demanded.

"Is that any way to greet your best mate?" Blaise Zabini answered, amused.

Draco shrugged and repeated, "What is it?"

Blaise looked at Draco for a moment, taking in his disheveled hair, rumpled t-shirt and boxers before replying somberly, "It's about Hermione and Lucas."

Panic immediately took over all Draco's other feelings, and he felt his breath accelerate as he exclaimed, "What is it? What happened? Are they alright?" He gripped the door tightly to keep from shaking him by the shoulders.

"Calm down, mate, you look like you are going to pass out," Blaise commented, "Hermione and Luke are just fine. Now are you going to let me in? This is kind of important, and you should probably sit down."

Draco opened the door wider and let his friend in, who was dressed in a suit; he must be heading to work.

When they had sat down, Blaise looked seriously at Draco. "What the hell happened to you, Draco? You look like a homeless person."

"Oh, gee, thanks," Draco spat, "Maybe if the damn house-elf hadn't dragged me from my bed, I would look better."

"You were sleeping? Draco its 12:30."

Draco sighed. "What's your point, Zabini? I thought there was something of importance to discuss."

Blaise cleared his throat quickly and picked up his briefcase, pulling a few pieces of paper out. "Look Draco," he said slowly, "I'm a lawyer."

Draco frowned and raised his eyebrows. "So?"

His friend held out the papers. "Hermione wanted me to give these to you." Draco took them, still not quite understanding. "I'm going to represent her. She is also suing for full custody of Luke... as well as having a restraining order placed against you…. I'm sorry, mate."

So, this was what Hermione was doing all that time? Draco sighed and ran his hands over his face. What the hell was he going to do now? "Shit!" he exclaimed. The whole situation was just getting out of control! But… he had started it.

"I'm sorry," Blaise repeated. "I've been in contact with your lawyers; the trial has been set for about a week and half from now." Draco looked at the papers disbelievingly and barely noticed when his friend put his hand on his shoulder for a moment, before getting up and letting himself out.

And when Draco heard the front door shut quietly, he allowed his pain and anger to get the better of him, ripping the papers in half and flipping the coffee table over, shattering its glass surface. Then he went to the wall, taking portraits and throwing them across the room, as well as taking the glass ornaments from the mantle of the fireplace and smashing them on the floor. Letting out a scream of rage, Draco took the wedding ring from his finger and opened the window, sending it flying out deep into the gardens, the sun glinting off its platinum surface for just a moment before it disappeared. He ripped the heavy drapes from the windows, and shouting again, he took a marble statue from its stand and started hitting the furniture in the room, sending splinters of wood everywhere as well as destroying the large leather couch. When he had destroyed all the furniture, Draco sent the marble statue flying; making it hit the fireplace with a large crash that broke a large portion of the fireplace off.

Panting, Draco fell to his knees and sobbed like he was a two year old child.

And so, a little over one week later, Draco Malfoy was standing smack-dab in the middle of the great Ministry of Magic, letting the mobs of people push past him as he watched his life walk down the stairs in her very professional looking black pinstriped knee length skirt and jacket. Sighing, Draco headed in the general direction his wife had gone, but instead of going down the stairs behind her, he went up the stairs to his lawyers' office to prepare for the trial that was scheduled to start in less than an hour.

**XXXXX**

It was not to be a large trial full of witnesses and media coverage. There was not to be any special attention paid to the trial, as things like this just didn't happen to people. Except for Hermione. Yes, it seemed, things like this only occurred in her world. Normal people wouldn't be fighting their husband for custody of their child… normal people would be happy with the one they were stuck with for life; they wouldn't want to rip their husbands eyeballs out.

But then again, when had her life ever been normal? She had been a muggle until the age of 11, when she received her letter from Hogwarts. She had been friends with 'the chosen one' and always somehow managed to get involved situations that she should never have survived but somehow did. She had helped defeat the darkest wizard in ages, gaining everlasting fame. She then proceeded to have a whirlwind courtship with her archenemy, and married him a mere three months after establishing a truce. And then he died. And she had a baby at the age of nineteen. And then Draco came back after being dead for over three years.

No, Hermione's life was anything but average. It was only natural that she would be going through this ordeal… she really shouldn't have been shocked that it happened, in fact, she should have been expecting it. But as she stepped into the small courtroom with Blaise Zabini at her side, she indeed felt shocked by the absurdity of the situation that was unfolding. She saw her husband already sitting on one side of the room, his horde of high-priced lawyers huddled around him.

She tried to ignore the fact that he was pale and had dark circles under his eyes – a result from his excessive drinking perhaps? – and squared her shoulders when he looked in her direction, walking confidently forward to her side of the room, determined to ignore his presence for the remainder of the time they were forced to be in the same room with one another.

Sitting down, Hermione began occupying her time by rummaging through her purse – for what; she had no idea – to give her something to look at besides her husband. She could feel his eyes on her, and though she hated to admit it, it unnerved her. For some insane reason, every time she was in the same room as Draco, no matter how big, she was always acutely aware of his presence… it just seemed to demand her attention. And the fact that no matter how hard she tried she couldn't stop noticing him aggravated her to no avail.

Shaking her head, Hermione tried to stop thinking about anything. She needed to focus on the trial that was ahead of her… she needed to be in complete control of her thoughts and emotions to be of any use. Setting her purse aside, Hermione sighed and clasped her hands in her lap and looked straight ahead, waiting for the judge to arrive.

"Hermione," she heard a voice to her left say. She knew that voice, and she wanted nothing to do with its owner. "Hermione," Draco said again, a little louder.

Hermione sighed and looked at her hands. "Hermione, I know you can hear me," Draco said quietly, "I want to talk to you." Hermione stole a quick glance in his direction. "Please."

She turned towards him when she took note of the pleading sound of his voice. He looked terrible. He was unshaven, which Hermione had never seen before, and a fine blond beard had begun to grow. He had large dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for days, and his gray eyes were bloodshot. Hermione wondered just what he had been doing.

But then, what did she care? Summoning all the nastiness she could, she spat, "What do you want, Draco?"

Draco sighed before replying, "Look, I've made a mistake."

A mistake? _A mistake_!? Draco Malfoy had more than just _a mistake_. "Oh?"

"I should have never contacted the lawyers."

You bet you shouldn't have! Hermione screamed silently. "It's too late for apologies, Draco, what's done is done and there is no going back now."

Draco looked away, over at his lawyers, who were talking to Blaise, and then back to Hermione. "I know, and I'm sorry, sorrier than I think you will ever realize… I don't want to do this. I don't want to bring the legal system into this mess." Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you agree to settle this outside court, I swear to you, I will leave you and Lucas alone." Hermione raised her eyebrows but remained silent. "I won't see Luke unless he wants to be seen. I won't ask you to pretend to be my wife for social purposes. I only ask that I get a chance to spend time with Luke… to be his father."

Hermione was stunned. What could she say to that? What did he expect her to do? Fling herself into his arms and pretend that everything was fine and dandy? That it made everything alright? She thought for a moment more before saying slowly, "Draco, I honestly don't think that is possible anymore. How do I know that you won't do something stupid that would bring harm to Luke? How do I know that you can be responsible? Until you can prove that to me, I am not in any way, shape, or form going to consider settling out of court. In fact, I'm glad that you decided to file those papers. It will just be better for me when I know that I have the law on my side."

"Hermione, you don't understand," Draco replied, still oddly calm, "I don't think you understand the magnitude –"

"Alright, I'm here, let's get this started," a rough voice exclaimed loudly from the back of the room. Hermione silently thanked the gods for the disruption as she turned to see who it was.

The judge, from all outward appearances, looked like he had just dug himself out of a grave. He was so old, that Hermione was sure that he would topple over if he was breathed on wrong. He had a perpetual mean expression on his face, as if he had frowned one too many times and his face literally got stuck that way, and besides the few white hairs on the top of his head, he was completely bald. He continued grumbling as he made his way to his seat and sat down, glaring at Hermione and Draco, as well as the lawyers, who had begun to make their way back to their seats.

Draco coughed quietly, gave Hermione one last pleading look, and went to sit down where he had previously been sitting. Hermione took several deep breaths and told herself to calm down; there was nothing to worry about.

"Alright… let's see what had to drag me from my vacation…" the judge grumbled as Blaise sat beside Hermione, effectively blocking Draco from her sight. He smiled reassuringly at her before becoming serious. "Both sides suing for full custody of Lucas Richard Malfoy! And a restraining order petitioned by Mrs. Hermione Granger Malfoy against Mr. Draco Malfoy on grounds of unlawful behavior and being a threat to the child's innocence!? Well, well, well," the judge exclaimed, "this is a quite a mess!" And then, to Hermione's great horror, he began laughing.

She crossed her arms and glared at the judge, not seeing what he thought was so hilarious about all of this. As the rude man continued to laugh, Hermione lost her patience and stood quickly, exclaiming, "Excuse me, but I don't find this situation amusing at all. If you would, please, I would like to get this started as I have better things to do with my time."

The judge did his best to cease his laughter and managed to turn them into disgusting hacks as Hermione took her seat again. "Yes, well… I assume you both have been sworn in?" the judge asked, breathing heavily.

Hermione nodded.

"Alright then…" he muttered, shuffling through the papers. "This is a highly unusual situation," he said, looking at Hermione and Draco, "There is only one other documented case of this nature in the records. Now, due to the fact that it is such a rare situation, there are certain steps that need to be taken before custody can be determined."

What? Couldn't that idiot see that there was nothing that needed to be 'determined'? She had nothing she needed to say to Draco, and he had nothing to say to her that she wanted to hear. Hermione was quite positive that nothing that nothing could be done to change the fact that Draco was an unfit father.

"First," the judge said loudly, "the cause of the dissolution of your marriage must be determined. Secondly, to determine who will maintain custody of the child, extensive background will be required for the both of you, as one's actions are the most effective determinant in one's character.

"Thirdly, the Ministry of Magic does not wish to convey the message that it is alright to give up on a marriage. Since the marriage bond is one that cannot be broken, I require that you attend what the muggles call marriage counseling before I will even consider making a decision about anything. I want to know that everything has been done to try to salvage the marriage."

Hermione felt her mouth drop open. "Blaise!" she hissed, "Stop him! I refuse to do this!"

Blaise stood quickly and exclaimed, "Objection, Your Honor, my client cannot be subjected to the emotional distress caused by bringing up painful memories. She is in no condition."

"Are you physically ill, Mrs. Malfoy?" the judge asked her.

Hermione frowned. "No, but -"

"Are you mentally disturbed, Mrs. Malfoy?"

No, but my husband is, she thought. "Well no, but -"

"Then you should be just fine to meet with the counselor. Objection denied. Your first session will be tomorrow at 9:00 AM," the judge continued, "Case dismissed. I don't want to hear from you folks until I'm back from Italy in two months." With that, the judge got up and walked briskly to the door.

Hermione put her head into her hands. Two months? She had to put up with him for two months? And marriage counseling? Why not just point the wand at her head, yell Avada Kadabra and have it over with? It certainly seemed like a good idea to her.

Maybe she'd take Draco out while she was at it. She smiled at the thought.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Uh-oh! Marriage counseling? Sorry I haven't updated lately but I've been busy. Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to those of you who have reviewed! It is nice to hear what you think and I respect your opinions.

**But… just a little note**. I don't want to get all mean on you, so please don't take it that way. Writing a story, no matter how easy you think it may be, is hard. It takes a lot of time, effort, and planning. And besides that, writing with someone else's characters makes it difficult to portray them accurately. I understand this and take it into consideration when I read other people's stories, and very few of them manage to portray characters like they are in the book or movie. So please, don't send anymore messages about characters being OOC, because the only one who can get them truly right is J.K. Rowling, and for the purposes of this story, the characters are different.

Thank you so much to my reviewers! **mentarisenja, crystalight22, snapeluna, Irmorena, vampiregurl, christy86, Darkness holds me tightly, sssssssssss, mj, Allison, alesanwait**

As always, leave a review! I like to know what you think.


	9. Love Me, Love Me Not

**DISCLAIMER: At my university, the professors make it a point to mention that it is wrong to plagiarize. If I really wanted to be expelled, I would have stolen Harry Potter long ago.**

**Chapter 9: Love Me, Love Me Not**

Hermione sat on the crinkly paper that was a pathetic attempt to prevent the spreading of germs between patients at the doctor's office. The sterile smell of the place nearly overwhelmed her already sensitive senses, making her stomach churn and her eyes search for the nearest trash can lest she need to use it. The place hadn't changed much since she had been there the last time, except then it had been full of excitement, and the whole world had felt like it was at her fingertips. Now… well now, Hermione felt dread more than excitement, praying that what she had been experiencing for the past three and a half weeks was just stress. It just had to be.

Her heart began beating rapidly as she heard a knock on the door. "C – Come in," she said nervously, squaring her shoulders and fixing her dress suit. She had come from the Ministry of Magic, where the insane judge had proclaimed that all she and Draco needed was some marriage counseling. Psh. Marriage counseling wouldn't do anything to help, she thought, it would only ruin their relationship more.

Dr. Lansky hobbled into the room, aided by a walking stick. His hair had thinned considerably since the last time she had saw him, and what was left was snow white. To be honest, Hermione was amazed to find out that he was still alive when she made her appointment. He smiled at her before saying, "Ah, Mrs. Malfoy. I wondered if I wouldn't be seeing you again."

Hermione managed to return his smile with a small one of her own. "Yes, well I wasn't so sure myself."

"Well," he said pleasantly, "either way it is nice to see you again."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, making the paper make that ridiculous noise again. "If you will forgive my forwardness, Dr. Lansky, I would rather we just get down to business as I have to pick up my son in about forty-five minutes." She made a point to look at her watch.

The doctor smiled. "Of course, Mrs. Malfoy, I understand that you young people are all so busy these days." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. The sooner she found out that it was just stress, the better. She had more productive things to do with her time. "If you would," Dr. Lansky said, gesturing to the table, indicating that he wanted her to lie down. She complied, and held her breath as he exposed her pale abdomen and waved his wand over it like he had all those years ago.

The few moments she lay there seemed to take forever, staring at the bleak white ceiling, not wanting to sit up and face what the doctor had to say. She shut her eyes as she heard the paper rustle around in Dr. Lansky's hands as he read what it said. His voice seemed far away as he began to talk, but Hermione heard every word with a painstaking clarity. "Congratulations, Mrs. Malfoy, it appears as if your son is going to have a brother or sister! It looks like you are about eight weeks along, and everything looks good. I'll need to see you again in about two weeks to do a full examination." A miserable sob escaped Hermione, and she bit her lip hard, not wanting to cry in front of the doctor. Dr. Lansky seemed to understand that she needed a moment, patting her on the shoulder before stepping out of the room whistling.

She put her shirt down and kept her eyes shut. Maybe if she pinched herself she would wake up from this horrible dream she seemed to be stuck in. Maybe she would wake up and still be eighteen, with nothing holding her back; she could go to school and become a healer like she wanted to, not just a nurse; she could travel the world like she wanted to do, study different cultures and help those who needed it.

But her plans never seemed to work out the way she had planned in her head. She had thought she wanted to do all of those things, but when she kissed Draco Malfoy that very first night, knowing that she very well shouldn't be doing it, the attraction had been instant. And she couldn't help but use the lame expression of it being like fireworks exploding. She had known in that instant that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, not only because she was immensely attracted to him, but because he actually seemed to be genuinely interested in what she had to say about things.

When Draco died, she had been devastated, all her plans thrown out the window once again. For three long years she had thought about him almost constantly, having to see him in the son who looked just like his father. And then, when she was just getting her life put back together, picking herself up off the ground and putting the pieces together, Draco reappeared, shattering her life once again.

Tears leaked from her eyes as she tried to shut the persistent images of her husband out of her head, thinking about how much another child would complicate things. Lucas and her baby did not deserve to be subjected to the confusion and hurt that this situation would certainly subject them to. They shouldn't have to wonder whether they would live with Mommy or Daddy, and they certainly didn't deserve to have to deal with all the fighting. If only Draco wasn't so stupid!

Huge sobs filled the empty room. Why did he have to go and ruin their marriage when it had just barely started? Of the nearly four years that they had been married, Hermione had only spent six months as his wife, and another two trying to stay away from him. She had to admit that even though she abhorred her husband, she was glad that her son would know his father, even if he was a miserable adulterer alcoholic.

Hermione sighed and opened her blurry eyes. Draco. She missed who he had been when they first married, the confident man that he had been who hadn't been afraid of anything and had been so sure that he was going to leave his mark on the world. Now… well, that man was gone. She may as well just accept that the man she married no longer existed. What there was, was a stranger who she had nothing in common with, a stranger who drank like a fish, lied, and couldn't keep his pants zipped.

If only there was a shred of that man left, Hermione would be able to consider trying to work things out. But this Draco was nothing like the man she once knew, and to be honest, she was a little frightened of him. One moment he would be almost civil, and the next he would be throwing a tantrum. Another moment, he would look at her like she was the spawn of Satan, the next he would hold her in his arms as if she was the most precious possession in the world like he had at the party.

She just could not understand him.

Wiping her eyes again she sat up and once again righted her clothes. What would he do when she told him she was pregnant? Would he even acknowledge that the child was his? He would probably demand that she remain within his sight until the child was born, and then he would try to take the baby from her because in his eyes, she was an "unfit mother." But there was no way she would let him take Luke or this new baby from her… Draco would have to tear them from her cold dead hands.

So there.

Getting shakily to her feet, Hermione took a deep breath and stood up straight, walking from the room as if all was right in her world.

**XXXXX**

Draco Malfoy had given up all hope of finding his wife via private detectives. It seemed to him that all they wanted was his money; they didn't really want to help him find where Hermione lived. And when there was a murderous man potentially following her, or even knowing where she was, Draco could not take any more time waiting for amateurs to do the job that he himself should have begun long ago.

And so, in place of doing something his father would have considered "productive" with his time, Draco was searching out the place that Chev had last been seen, in muggle London no less. The sky had become overcast at some point – or maybe it had been all day, Draco wasn't sure – and the heaviness of the air around him let him know it would be raining soon. He didn't care that he had no umbrella… maybe pneumonia would do him good.

He had apparated to a street named Williams Place, which appeared to be a residential street. Large old houses lined both sides of the street, most of them set far away from the street to give privacy to the owners, and large trees gave the impeccable lawns a dark and mysterious look. Draco imagined that this would be a good place to raise a family – if he was a muggle. Lucius' file had said that he had been seen outside one particular house, a powder blue establishment with a wraparound porch and two stories.

He didn't see it until he was almost past it, so light a shade of blue it was. It was a very large house, very large and very nice. Draco resisted the urge to walk up to the front door and tell the residents to leave as soon as possible, knowing that having a complete stranger coming up to them would be bad. So instead, he committed the place to memory, taking note of the children's toys on the porch and the hanging swing, as well as a peek of a swing set in the back yard.

Overhead, the sky lit up, sending thunder rumbling around him as the rain began to fall. Raising his face to the sky, Draco let the cool drops hit his skin and neck, hoping to ease whatever pain he was feeling. When he looked towards the house again, he saw a familiar looking woman standing on the porch, hands on her hips, looking like she was going to explode. Her frizzy brown hair was up in a ponytail, though wisps were already falling out. Even in her sweatpants and oversized t-shirt, she was still the most beautiful woman on Earth. "Hermione?" he asked, walking closer to the house.

His wife was glaring at him. "Stop right there, Draco." She came bounding towards him, stopping an armslength away from him, and not seeming to notice that it was pouring. "Were you _following _me?"

"No."

"That is sick, Draco, sick. Why can't you just let me live my life in peace?"

"Damn it, Hermione, I wasn't following you!" Draco exclaimed over the rain. Merlin, but she looked pretty!

"Then what are you doing here!" she demanded, crossing her arms.

Draco looked down and noticed that Hermione's feet were bare. "You should go inside before you get sick because you aren't wearing shoes."

"Stop dawdling, Draco! Why the hell are you at my house? And how did you even find me!"

"It's about what I was trying to tell you this morning."

"Well?"

Draco looked at his wife, rain running down her face and through her hair, soaking her clothes. "Hermione, I have good reason to believe that a very dangerous person has been seen here, outside your house." Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Draco held up a hand. "Please let me finish. Do you remember Chevalier Allin? Apparently he has been seen with you in the recent past?" Hermione nodded. Draco took a deep breath. "Hermione, Chev is a murderer."

The crease between Hermione's brows grew before she replied, "You know Draco, you don't have to lie to me. Using a former friend as an excuse to stalk me to find where I live is pathetic, and now I must ask you to leave. I do not want to see you until I have to, which is tomorrow at 9:00AM. Goodbye, Draco." With that, she turned and started walking towards her house.

She got as far as the porch before Draco decided to stop her. Grabbing her by the wrist firmly enough to stop her, but not enough to bruise, he spun Hermione to face him. Anger simmered deep within him as she tried to pull away from him. "Let me go, Draco, or I'll call the police," she said calmly.

"No," Draco growled, pushing her to the wall of the house. His anger, pent up over the past weeks and months, seemed to be reaching a boiling point. All the pain caused by Ginny Potter and her damn scheming ways, along with the fury towards Chev added to the flames already brought to roaring life by Hermione's continued insults.

Well, enough was enough. Draco was through letting Hermione and the rest of the world trample over him like he was nothing. His wife would hear him out and be grateful that he was trying to help her, even if he had to force her to realize it. "No," he said again as she tried to push him away. He put his hands on her shoulders and held her against the house. "You are going to hear me out once and for all, woman!"

Hermione's eyes were large, but she remained silent.

"Do you know what I went through to come back to you alive, Hermione? Do you know how hard it was for me to sit in that prison every single day, not knowing whether those people had killed you and Luke? I went through Hell and back, Hermione, all for you. I killed those men because they were going to kill you. I managed to stay alive once I got back to the Manor because I kept telling myself that one day soon I would see you again. And I had no control over what happened with Ginny… I was drugged! Don't you see? Why would I have gone through all I had if I didn't love you, why wouldn't I have run off with Ginny when I had the chance? Don't you see? I love you, Hermione, more than I thought possible.

"You can hate me all you want, but I will _not_ let you walk all over me anymore, do you hear? No more of this just talking to me when you feel like it, because I am sick of it! You can blame me all you want for the things that have happened, because the majority of them were because of me, but the past is the past, Hermione. Nothing can change that now, not even your insulting of me. I'm done apologizing for the things I've done. I've made mistakes, and I accept that. I hope someday you can too.

"Convincing yourself that you hate me won't work forever because I know that deep down you still love me. I want our marriage to work, not just for our son's sake, but because no one else has ever made me feel the same way as you do." Draco saw that there were tears rolling down her cheeks, and he gently brushed them away with his thumbs. Thunder filled his ears as he looked at Hermione, her beautiful brown eyes bloodshot, her nose red, her perfect mouth open in a way that enticed him beyond belief as she tried to get control of herself.

He brushed the hair that had escaped from her ponytail away from her face, tucking it behind her ear before running his fingers along her jaw line and taking her chin with his forefinger and thumb, holding it there as he lightly kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally those perfect lips that always managed to make him lose his self-control.

Hermione sighed and leaned against him as he deepened the kiss, and he was mildly surprised when she slipped her tongue in his mouth, playing with his own in a dance Draco never wanted to end, even though he knew it never should have started in the first place, not like this. Still, he wasn't going to fight it.

Gently biting Hermione's bottom lip and sucking on it, he elicited a quiet moan from his wife as he pushed her against the house once more, pressing his body against hers, reveling in the feel of the heat of her skin that he could feel even through the fabric of their shirts, how it warmed him to his very core. Her arms went around his neck; her hands were in his hair, on his back, clinging to him as if all of a sudden he would blow away.

He kissed her neck, slipping his tongue out to taste the flesh he so sorely missed, and smiled as she moaned again when he playfully bit her collarbones and shoulders through her shirt. When he kissed her mouth again, it was not gentle as it had been, but full of the pent up emotions he had kept buried for so long, and it scared him a little when he realized just how much he wanted this woman. He knew that if they kept at it like this, they would end up doing something they would both regret… and as much as he wanted to make love to his wife, he wouldn't. When the time came, Draco wanted Hermione to come to him willingly, of her own accord.

And so, with all the self control he could muster, Draco pulled away from his wife and turned away, breathing heavily. Hermione made a noise of protest, but when she gasped Draco knew that she had realized what they had been doing, and was just as distressed about what had happened between them. They were supposed to hate each other after all.

Draco turned around and stole a glance at Hermione, feeling like a stupid schoolboy. Then looking at the ground, he wrenched a hand through his hair, trying to get the sensation of her hands out of it and licked his lips to rid them of her taste. It didn't work.

Clearing his throat, he looked once again at Hermione, whose face was redder than the hair of a Weasley. Her eyes were focused on some far off object, which was just as well because Draco wasn't so sure he would be able to meet her gaze just then. "Well, um… I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning." Hermione nodded, still looking away. "Please remember what I told you about Chev…." She nodded again. "Get me immediately if you even think you see him." She nodded just once, and Draco swore he saw her chin quiver. "Goodbye, Hermione," he said before turning and walking into the rain, hoping that the moisture would not only rejuvenate the earth but their marriage as well.

And as he walked towards the street, he swore he heard Hermione say, "Don't go," but he never turned around.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Sorry it's been so long since my last update. Now that I'm on break from school, I am going to try to get this story done before I go back to school in August. Wish me luck!

Thanks for reviewing: **sarahr85, alesanwait, vampiregurl, Irmorena, mentarisenja, randombeastie, snapeluna, kysouza3123, Darkness holds me tightly, jkl;j, dracmione, Kimkoi, AsHtIsDaLe21, kingbritney, ethereallie, Dramione-Fan 17, Sin-and-Smokin, Burg Gurl, Victoria, Appl, FlowerChild67 **I really appreciate them!

As always, review! I like to know what you think.


	10. Counseling is for Muggles

**DISCLAIMER: It is summer. I'm too hot to think of scheming ways to steal Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 10: Counseling is for Muggles, Not Draco Malfoy**

The place looked just like one of those offices from the movies, and the therapist seemed like the perfect stereotype. Hermione looked at the man in front of her, Dr. Landon Hutchens, taking in his tiny form, half bald head, glasses that looked as if they came from the 1980s, and the oversized sweater that she swore her grandmother had as well.

She smoothed her tan pants and crossed her legs, trying to ignore the scent of banana bread, sitting on a plate on the coffee table before her, mixed with the nearly overpowering smell of the lilacs sitting in a vase on the windowsill. She swallowed quickly, trying to quell the urge to empty the contents of her stomach – what little there was – for the third time that morning. She attempted to smile at the doctor, who was looking at her with the same intensity she had been looking at him just moments earlier, and tried to ignore the cold sweat that had broke out all over her body.

Bloody hell, but she didn't want to be here! All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go to sleep for the rest of the day in close proximity of a toilet, but here she was, at one of only three wizard therapists in all of England, waiting for her elusive husband to arrive so they could discuss their marriage. She glanced at her watch and saw that Draco was now fifteen minutes late. He had better show up, and soon, she thought, because she hadn't taken yet another day off of work to sit in a stuffy office filled with books about feelings and be stared at by a creepy man all by herself. She expected things to get done, for progress to be made, so she could get back to her life all the faster.

Maybe he was going to avoid her because of what happened the day before. Hermione had to admit that she thought about doing the same thing, but she was not about to be a coward. She would behave like an adult, however unwillingly. Somebody had to. Besides, it was just a kiss. Her fingers unwillingly went to her lips. She could still feel the pressure of his mouth on hers, the taste, the feel of him sucking on her bottom lip. Just remembering it made her cheeks go red and her stomach fill with not an unpleasant sensation.

Clearly, it was not _just_ a kiss.

Maybe it was the hormones surging through her veins that she was so unused to that had made her kiss Draco back and then want him to stay when he walked away from her. Maybe she was just so sexually starved that she had asked him not to go just because she knew she needed the tension relief. Or maybe she wanted him to stay because the words he had said to her were right, that she couldn't hate him forever, not when she knew that no matter how much she hated him she loved him too.

No. There was no way that Hermione Jean Granger Malfoy still loved her husband. Not after what he did to her. So there.

A knock sounded on the door, and with a squeaky voice, Dr. Hutchens said, "Come in." The door opened, and in walked a short, plump woman in what looked to be her late forties or early fifties. She was also wearing a hideous sweater over a very orange polyester dress.

"Dr. Landon," she said pleasantly, "A Mr. Draco Malfoy is here for the 9:00 appointment." She smiled at Hermione, who couldn't quite return it. Her stomach had suddenly done a huge summersault and she was afraid that if she moved her lips in any way she would surely vomit all over the banana bread that was still assaulting her nose with its sickly sweet aroma. Regardless, she sat up straighter and cleared her throat, determined to ignore what was going on in her body. She looked towards the door and saw her husband, looking very clean cut in his three piece suit and freshly shaven face. He even looked well rested, much to Hermione's chagrin. She wished she could say the same for herself; she had barely gotten a wink of sleep the night before. Her stomach turned as he sent a small smile in her direction and she quickly looked away.

"Very well," the doctor said, "send him in." Hermione watched as Draco walked into the room and shook Dr. Hutchens hand, introducing himself before saying a quick greeting to Hermione – which she ignored – and sitting down beside her on the white and not very comfortable small sofa.

She tried to ignore the pleasant heat that radiated from his body and the scent of his skin, which made her think about the taste of his skin and then his mouth, which brought back all her previous thoughts. She could feel her face starting to burn with color again and she occupied herself by assessing her nails.

"Shall we begin?" Dr. Hutchens said blandly, picking up his notepad and clicking his pen. "Let's start with the basics, yes?" Hermione twisted her hands nervously and noted that the doctor didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "I see you were married on August 31, four years ago?"

"Yes, that is correct," Draco supplied, looking at Hermione. She rolled her eyes and looked away.

"Alright," Dr. Hutchens said, writing something down, "Happy belated anniversary."

At that, Hermione looked at the doctor, silently cursing him, then to her husband, who was still watching her, making her feel slightly more uncomfortable than she already was. He looked in her eyes, and then ever so quickly looked to her lips before smiling and turning his attention back to the therapist.

"And you have a son, Lucas Richard, born June 18, three years ago?"

"Yes," Hermione supplied.

"Very well," Dr. Hutchens said. "And you, Draco, were considered to be dead for over three years." Draco nodded. "Was this the cause of the dissolution of your marriage?"

Hermione held back tears, though she had no idea why she was crying yet again. "No. I can deal with that. What I cannot abide is the fact that my husband cheated on me with my best friend's wife, and neglected to tell me that he was even alive!" She crossed her arms and stared at the vase of light purple lilacs in the window. She wanted to take that vase and smash something very badly. Maybe on Ginny's head.

"I see. Mr. Malfoy, why is it that you neglected to tell your wife that you were in fact alive?"

Hermione glared at her husband, waiting to see what he had to say about things.

**XXXXX**

Draco Malfoy looked from his wife to the therapist and back again, trying to formulate an appropriate answer to the question. What could he say? Hell, he didn't even remember half of the things that had happened after he killed the people who had taken him! The only thing that he really remembered was the pain, the excruciating aches all through his body. He lay in his bed wishing to die, wishing for all the pain to go away, wishing for Hermione.

Clasping his hands in his lap, Draco closed his eyes for a moment before saying, "I don't even know. I was really hurt when I got to the house, and it took weeks for me to recover from those injuries, and even longer to gain back my strength… I was really malnourished. And I got a couple infections that were really bad." Hermione's expression had changed from fury to something he couldn't quite decipher. He put his hand gently on her forearm and she stiffened, but she didn't pull away. "Hermione," he said quietly, "you have to believe me when I say that I thought about you all the time. I wanted you to be there with me."

Hermione wouldn't meet his eyes when she asked, "Why didn't you owl me? Why didn't you have your mother or father come get me right away? Or even _Ginny Potter_? Obviously you didn't want me around that much if you couldn't bother to contact me."

Draco sighed. "It's not like I didn't ask them to! I have no idea why they didn't come for you. I asked my mother to find you, Hermione, I asked her to get you when I didn't know if I was going to live. She told me she would. But you never came. I waited for months, Hermione, for you to come to me, or I was going to come find you. Did Mother never come for you?"

He felt her agony as she began crying and shook her head no. "The only time she wanted to see me after I left was when she came to me at work and said she wanted to see Lucas. She never said anything about you being there."

Dr. Hutchens, who had been listening quietly the entire time, spoke. "Why do you think it is, Mrs. Malfoy, that your mother-in-law never contacted you?"

Draco watched Hermione intently as she wiped her eyes on a handkerchief in her hand and brushed her unruly brown curls away from her face. He wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss away her tears, but he kept his hands to himself. "I have no idea," Hermione said sniffling, "I thought she liked me. But then again, I did leave the house without as much as a goodbye… Maybe she never liked me in the first place. After all, I took her pureblooded son away from an advantageous marriage by allowing him to marry me, a muggle-born."

Draco gritted his teeth. His mother _was_ capable of doing something like that, but the question was, would she? He frowned as he exclaimed, "Hermione I am going to get to the bottom of this. If Mother was responsible, she won't get away with it." He got to his feet and made his way to the door and had his hand on the handle when the doctor stopped him.

"Just a moment if you will, Mr. Malfoy. There is still a matter I would like to bring to the surface." Draco went back to his seat slowly, and when he sat, he thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile on his wife's face. He couldn't understand why the damn man wouldn't let him go! These were matters of the utmost importance, and if it meant that dealing with them would make things right, well by God he was going to get them done!

"What is it then?" Draco demanded, looking around the place and deciding that if he never had to come back to this place it would be too soon.

Dr. Hutchens wrote something down quickly and looked at Draco through his enormous glasses. "I would like to discuss your doings with Ginny Potter." To his right, Hermione gasped and stiffened even more, and he himself seemed to forget how to breathe.

"What about her?" he said when he found his voice, even though he knew very well what it was about.

The doctor raised his eyebrows and consulted his notepad. "Your wife said you slept with her friend, Ginny Potter. When did this happen?"

Draco wiped his brow and glanced at Hermione. She was looking out the window again, but he could see that she was listening. "Some time ago," Draco said, "before Hermione knew I was alive."

"Why?"

"She put a potion in my tea." He heard Hermione snort. "It's true!" he insisted.

"Oh please," Hermione snapped, "She put potion in your tea when I can fly without a broom."

Draco took a good hard look at his wife, who was still teary eyed, from her uncontrollable mane to her folded arms, done so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. He just could not figure out how she could go from being the most caring person in the world to the monster he saw before him. The day before, it had seemed to him that she may be able to put the past behind them, to focus on the future and their family. Like she had finally seen a glimmer of light.

Now, well now the light was clearly turned off. Damn therapist anyway. Draco Malfoy had lived his entire life without the help of some yuppie with a piece of paper that told him he could cure people's problems, and he wasn't about to start. He didn't give a rat's ass what that guy thought. Draco knew how to solve his own problems. He would set things right with Hermione and everyone else if it was the last thing he ever did.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked finally.

Hermione was obviously uncomfortable. "What in the hell do you think that means, Draco? I know you slept with that tramp willingly, and the sooner you admit it, the better. Why do you constantly insist upon lying to me?" A lone tear fell down her cheek.

The underlying anger that Draco constantly felt surged up again, as it had the day before, causing him to ball his fists and burst out, "See? See what she does to me?" He gestured violently in the direction of his wife. "I tell her the truth and she doesn't believe me! No, she refuses to believe me! Time after time I have told her the truth, and time after time she ignores it! And she tries and succeeds in making me feel like shit! I know what I did wasn't right, and I've apologized until I'm blue in the face, and still she refuses!

"Tell me Hermione; is it nice in your world? Is it great to know that you are perfect? The perfect woman, mother, and whatever the hell else you think is wonderful about you? Because I'm going to tell you something right now. You can live in your fairytale all you want, but sooner or later the shit is going to hit the fan. No one is perfect, Hermione, not even you. And you had better hope that when you realize it I'm still around, because I won't wait forever." He was breathing heavily by the time he finished, astonished at the words that had spewed forth from his mouth. But they needed to be said, and as he told Hermione the day before, Draco was through with apologies. He glared down at his hands as he waited for someone to speak.

"Well," Dr. Hutchens said slowly, "it seems as if we have reached the root of the problem." Draco watched as he scribbled furiously on his paper. "I believe that will be enough for today. I would like to see each of you individually, next week, as I have things I would like to discuss with both of you separately. I believe that this will only be safe." Draco rolled his eyes. "You can make appointments with my secretary, Edna." He looked at both Draco and Hermione before having the audacity to smile at them. "I think we've made real progress here today. I hope you each have a splendid rest of the day, and I look forward to seeing you next week." With that, Dr. Hutchens got up and walked to his desk, completely ignoring the angry couple still sitting.

Hermione got up quickly and walked out the door without saying a word to Draco, which was just as well as things would not go good if they exchanged their thoughts. He followed soon after her, thinking that he could show that doctor just where to shove that progress and splendid day.

And then he saw Hermione bent over a trashcan, the obvious noises of retching coming from her. The secretary was beside her, holding her hair out of the way. He considered that it could have been the conversation that upset her, but he decided he didn't really care much at that moment. Let her be miserable, she deserved it. Completely ignoring the situation going on before him, he walked to the front desk and demanded, "Are you going to make me another bloody appointment or what, woman? I don't think you're being paid to idle from your job."

The secretary, so pleasant earlier, sent him a scathing look before murmuring something to Hermione, who grabbed her own hair, and coming swiftly to the desk. "You should be ashamed of yourself," she hissed, grabbing a pen and opening the calendar, "treating your poor wife like that. She is obviously a fragile woman."

Draco smirked as he looked to his wife, still over the trash. Fragile my ass. "And you, _Edna,_" he spat, "should learn to keep your nose to yourself. Now, make the damn appointment!"

The woman glared at him, writing on a little square in the book, and then on a small piece of paper without bothering to ask Draco when he wanted it. She then shoved the paper in his direction, which he took with a smirk and walked out the door without as much as a thought of his 'fragile' wife.

Though he did have to wonder why she was vomiting.

**XXXXX**

The pains had begun before breakfast that morning and had gotten increasingly worse as the day went on. Ginny Potter knew that something was not right, though she prayed there wasn't. She needed everything to work out perfectly if she was going to get what she wanted.

As far as Draco Malfoy was concerned, the baby she was creating was the bond that would fuse them together for the rest of their lives. She smiled as she began cutting carrots for dinner. Harry would be home soon, and she wanted things to be nice, since there wouldn't be too many more nice meals between them. Once she told Harry that the child he was carrying was not his, she would lose him and quite possibly James.

But she was willing to risk that; she would risk anything to get Draco, including her life, which was what Healer Geronn told her nearly seven months before. "I've never done something like this before," he had told her. "The effects of this pregnancy will have many negative effects on you; the lightest of them being that you will more than likely lose your ability to have children, and the worst being the loss of your life and that of the child. Are you willing to put yourself at risk for this?" She had nodded, smiling.

That same smile faded from her face as another pain ripped through her body, a massive spasm that began in the middle of her ever growing belly and stretched all the way to her lower back. She gripped the countertop and clenched her teeth, trying not to cry out. No, something defiantly wasn't right.

She hadn't felt the child move in two days. Her skin had taken on a grayish hue, and if she stood too fast she got dizzy and would nearly faint. Every pregnancy was different, as her mother had said, but something about this was off.

Of course, the baby had not been conceived in the usual way, but Geronn said that it should be like any other pregnancy!

A small cry escaped her lips as the pain crawled slowly up her back, stabbing her like a knife, and she squeezed her eyes shut. The door opened and closed, and she did her best to straighten up and act as if nothing was wrong.

Harry walked into the kitchen and gasped. "Ginny!" he shouted, "You're – you're _bleeding_!" Ginny took a ragged breath and looked at herself; no cuts on her hands or arms, no cuts on her stomach. And then she noticed the red lines on her new white maternity pants, running down the inside of her legs, the blood creating a small pool at her feet.

"No," she whimpered as she fell to the floor, and the last thing she saw before losing consciousness was Harry diving to catch her.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Well, I'm rather pleased with how fast I got this out! I hope you liked it.

Thanks for reviewing: **FlowerChild67, lrmorena, Darkness holds me tightly, lovelyru, vampiregurl, snapeluna** You guys are awesome!

As always, review! I like to know what you think.


	11. Baby, Oh Baby!

**DISCLAIMER: As an American citizen, I have many rights. However, I do not have the right to own Harry Potter.  
**

**Chapter 11: Baby, Oh Baby!**

The night shift in the emergency ward of St. Mungo's was passing achingly slowly, and Hermione almost hoped that someone would come in with a serious injury just so she would have something to do. Things rarely happened after the sun went down at the hospital, as there hadn't been an attack made by Death Eaters in years and consequently not as many people were hurt. Of course there was the occasional duel that had to be dealt with, but those injuries were usually so minor that the patient needed no more than a quick healing spell and they were on their way.

So, more often than not, Hermione was left to her own devices, which usually consisted of sitting in a chair and looking at year old magazines, trying not to think about her personal life. That was why she liked being busy… it gave her an opportunity to forget that she had a mountain of issues to deal with. But at that exact moment, Hermione was finding it very difficult to not think about her problems.

The appointment with the therapist that morning had been eventful to say the least, and Hermione had to admit that the things Draco said had stabbed at her like knives. She didn't know why they had, since she hated him and everything, but when he said that he wouldn't wait forever, it had felt like she had been ripped in two. But how could she forgive him? It didn't seem possible that he wouldn't have slept with Ginny willingly… for Christ's sake he was a man and quite obviously bigger and more powerful than her! One would think that he would be able to use his strength to get away before the potion took hold.

Then again… she had never had a love potion used on her and she couldn't be sure of the exact effects, but she had read enough to know that they weren't immediate. He could have had time to get away. Couldn't he? If she could only get into his mind and see what he had been thinking! He probably wouldn't allow his memories to be seen, and he defiantly wouldn't take a truth serum. That would make it too easy for her to find out the truth about him.

And nothing in Hermione's life was ever easy.

Shouting could be heard from the door, and Hermione turned quickly to see what the commotion was. To her shock, Harry Potter rushed through the door covered in blood, his wife in his arms. A frantic look was etched on his face as he ran to Hermione and shouted, "Hermione! Ginny's losing the baby!"

A fleeting thought ran through Hermione's head as she took in Ginny, who was gripping her stomach and breathing in short puffs of air, her teeth gritted. She almost hoped that Ginny would lose the baby, just to put her in her place, to show her that she was not the wonderful person she thought she was… "Hermione!" Harry shouted again.

She shook her head and said quickly, "Set her on the bed, I'll get the doctor." She ran and got the healer on call, a man named Geronn, who thankfully happened to deal with babies and children. Then, once they got to where Ginny was, the healer instructed Hermione to take Harry from the room. He refused profusely, but when Healer Geronn snapped that he needed to help Ginny and that Harry was not helping him concentrate, he practically ran to the waiting room.

It was the same waiting room they had been in the last time Ginny had had trouble with the child, but then it didn't feel as if anything was very serious. Now, the air seemed to have heaviness about it, almost as if the atmosphere knew something bad was going to happen. Maybe it was the fact that this time Harry was covered in blood – Ginny's blood – as he sunk down into the uncomfortable plastic chairs that made it bad. Maybe it was the tears Harry Potter tried to hide as they fell down his cheeks that were wiped away, leaving red streaks on them.

Or maybe it was the fact that Hermione had a terrible feeling that what was happening to Ginny was her fault. She had been the one to slap her at Ron's wedding. She had been the one to punch Ginny in the eye and make her fall to the ground. She had been the reason why Ginny had ended up in the hospital in the first place.

No, no, it wasn't her fault. Women had been having babies for thousands of years, and had much more stress and physical pain than Ginny had. There were a million reasons why she could be losing the baby. It wasn't her fault. It couldn't be.

"Harry," she said softly, looking at the man in front of her. He didn't acknowledge her, merely sniffled. "Harry," she said again, putting her hand on his shoulder, "the doctor will do everything in his power to help Ginny and your baby survive. I promise you that." She paused and looked in the direction of the room Ginny was in, praying that they would both survive, for Harry's sake as much as hers. "Sometimes these things happen, Harry, and there is no way of knowing when and who it will happen to…" She trailed off, thinking of the child growing within her, suddenly petrified about the fact that what was happening to Ginny could very well happen to her.

The thought was nearly paralyzing. She dropped her hand from Harry's shoulder, saying, "I should get back and help Healer Geronn. I promise you, Harry, we will do everything possible to make sure both of them are alright." As she hurried away, she heard Harry begin to sob.

She closed the door behind her when she got back to the room. The healer had removed most of Ginny's bloody clothes, and was feeling her stomach. Hermione could see the muscles of her abdomen tighten as a contraction came, and Ginny moaned quietly. "The child has got to come out," the healer muttered to himself. Hermione busied herself by checking Ginny's vitals.

"Too soon," Ginny whimpered.

"Ginny, this baby needs to come out or you and the baby could both die!" Geronn exclaimed, rummaging around in a cabinet for what Hermione could only assume was anesthesia. When he found it, he said, "Nurse, I need you to get Healer Peters from the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. This child is going to need serious help. Quickly!"

Hermione hurried out of the room, catching only a little of what Ginny said. "But this is the only way to be with him…" Hermione shook her head. Ginny Potter must be delusional in her pain. Of course Harry was going to be with her, they _were _married after all. Why wouldn't he want to be with her just because the baby was born prematurely?

Minutes later, Hermione was back with Healer Peters, a middle aged woman with large green eyes. Healer Geronn had already given Ginny the anesthesia, and she was painfully pale as she lay there covered only by a sheet. By the looks of the tools on the table, they were going to perform an emergency C-section. Funny, Hermione thought for a moment, that with all the advantages of magic, the medical profession still relied on Muggle techniques to have children. From another cabinet in the room, Hermione took three surgical masks and hats, as well as protective gowns to keep blood off their scrubs.

Then, she took her wand and sanitized both doctor's hands before helping them into their coverings and supplying them with rubber gloves. She did the same for herself, and after checking Ginny's vitals again, she nodded towards the doctors and they began.

She looked away as they cut Ginny's stomach open, not able to bear the sight of it. She had never had an aversion to blood and gore before, but with the way her stomach was churning she wasn't sure she could handle it. So, instead, she kept checking the vitals, and handing the doctors which tools they needed, completely ignoring the red that she could see from the corner of her eyes.

"My God! She is a mess!" Healer Peters commented. Hermione heard slurping sound of the suction device as it cleared away Ginny's blood. "I've never seen anything like this!"

Hermione felt an inkling to look at what the experienced doctor was even surprised about, but she avoided it like the plague. Healer Geronn remained quiet, focusing on the baby he was trying to pull out. Hermione couldn't resist looking when she heard a heartbreaking cry, unmistakably a baby's. "A girl," Healer Peters said, severing the umbilical cord and hurrying to a tiny bed and beginning to work on the child.

Hermione smiled, thankful that the child was alive, and told Ginny, "You have a daughter, and she is beautiful!" She checked her vitals again and noticed her blood pressure was dropping. She went to address the doctor just in time for a stream of crimson come like a fountain from Ginny's abdomen.

"She's hemorrhaging!"

**XXXXX**

Draco Malfoy told himself and told himself that he was not going to go to Hermione's house ever again. Ever. He was going to be a man and give her the privacy she wanted. He would quell the urge to stalk her mercilessly, no matter how much danger she was in. He had made it clear that morning that he was not going to take things for much longer. Marriage or no marriage, unequaled passion or not, he was going to get on with his life.

And if Hermione didn't want to be part of his life anymore, fine. If she did, well, that would be fine too. All he knew was that he couldn't allow her to keep walking all over him; it would be his demise.

But it still didn't explain why he was hiding behind one of the massive trees in his wife's yard, taking an occasional peek towards the house to make sure the lights were still on and there was movement in the house. He supposed he couldn't help himself… no matter how mad at her he was he was still drawn to her like a magnet. He _had_ to know that she was alright.

He didn't like the idea of Hermione being alone in such a large house when there was a murderer on the loose. As stubborn as she was, Draco knew that Hermione knew Chev was a very bad man. But the fact that she was completely ignorant of the possibility of him breaking into her home scared Draco to bits. Hermione and Lucas were his family. His own flesh and blood resided in the house he was staring at, and Draco felt an almost primal instinct to protect what was his. Even if the ones he was trying to protect didn't appreciate it.

Draco took a deep breath of the cool night air and let it out slowly, trying to calm his nerves.

Hermione.

He could still remember that first night with her, when they had abandoned their differences and focused only on each other and the passion that they had found. He had known in that moment that what he had heard was true – that love and hate were almost the same thing – and the ferocity they had felt against each other exploded in what Draco could only describe as fireworks. The first time she kissed him, he had known that she was the one he wanted to be with forever, bloodlines be damned.

Lucius hadn't been too happy when he found out about them, and Draco had a hard time talking him out of writing him from the will. In the end, he saw that it would be for the good of the family for Draco to marry Hermione, a muggle born and best friend to the most famous wizard in the world. Draco hadn't given a damn about the family. Hell, he would've given up magic if it meant that he could be with her!

Hermione was stubborn; there was no doubt about it. He had known it all through school, and knew it even more when they were married. They fought constantly – mostly about stupid things – and on more than one occasion Draco had been forced to sleep on the couch, but as monstrous as Hermione was when she was angry, she turned into an angel when she wasn't. She was overwhelmingly supportive of his choices and she was willing to sacrifice everything for him. She was a goddess.

But that goddess wanted nothing to do with Draco anymore. She was letting her hatred for him consume her, much as he had when they were in school. If only he could make her see that he was still the same man he had been when he married her four years earlier. How?

Draco glanced towards the house once more. He had tried to be nice. He had tried letting her figure things out on her own. He had even tried to be assertive, almost mean. Having done nearly everything in his power, Draco was at a loss as to what to do next. He was convinced that the therapy wasn't going to work; the more they talked about their problems, the worse they got. Arguing with her wouldn't help; it pushed her farther away. And he was not about to seduce her, although he had to admit that the idea was more and more appealing every day.

Draco Malfoy felt helpless.

Maybe he would try to talk some sense into her again, he thought as he straightened his clothes, rumpled from hiding behind the tree. Trying was better than doing nothing, after all.

He squared his shoulders and walked towards the house, trying to come up with things to say. How would she react to seeing him after what he said that morning? Probably hex him into next week, that's what she'd do. Regardless, Draco was willing to risk that. He walked past the spot where he had taken advantage of Hermione the day before and rang the doorbell. He could still feel her lips on his, taste them, and smell her skin. He wanted that back.

The door opened, revealing Luna Lovegood, or he supposed now Luna Weasley. She smiled deliriously, saying, "Draco Malfoy! How nice to see you! Do come in."

Draco attempted to smirk, but it came as a grimace. Luna was a very odd duck, to say the least, and Draco found it hard to be around her; she was always saying things that worried him. He followed her into the neat house, taking in the simple decorations. In the living room, he saw that the mantle of the fireplace was covered with photos, both muggle and magical.

Draco looked at each and every one of them with fascination, taking in all the years he missed. In the middle of all of them, there was a picture of himself and Hermione on their wedding day, kissing in the sunset. He cleared his throat – no use getting emotional here. Another picture, a muggle one, was of Hermione, Potter, and Weasley – obviously still in school, judging by the uniforms – cheesy grins on their faces. The next picture was of Hermione, sumptuously pregnant, showing her profile to the camera, smiling faintly. Draco's breath caught in his throat as he looked at his wife, radiating with her heavily distended abdomen. She looked so beautiful that he could hardly stand it.

He turned his eyes away from that picture, only to be greeted with another. Hermione lay in a hospital bed looking exhausted but blissful, holding a small bundle in her arms – Lucas. It hardly seemed possible that his son had been that small at one time. Draco's eyes stung and became blurry. He had missed so much; the birth of his only child, his first words, his first steps. He had denied Lucas the possibility of having siblings – and he knew Hermione had wanted more children – by not being there. It wasn't his fault, he knew, but he felt that he could have done more to get back to his family sooner and he knew Hermione felt that too.

Inconspicuously wiping his eyes, Draco looked at the other pictures, mostly of Luke's doings; his birthdays and the like. As he stared at one of Hermione and Luke sitting in a swing, he asked Luna, "Is Hermione here?"

"No," Luna replied, "She had to work at the hospital tonight. I'm watching Lucas and James for Hermione and the Potters. Hermione didn't mention that you would be coming to watch Luke."

A faint smile played on his lips as he said, "No, I suppose she didn't." He turned to Luna, who was playing with her turnip earrings. "I can take it from here, if you like. I'm sure you want to get home to Wea- I mean Ron."

Luna smiled at him, nodding her head. "Yes, it would be nice to get home. Ron has a terrible infestation of wrackspurts, you see, and I was hoping to cure him of it. I'll take James with me."

What in the hell was a wrackspurt? Draco wondered, that woman just kept getting stranger. "Very well," Draco said, attempting to smile at Luna, "have fun with your wacksputs."

Luna laughed an airy laugh and picked up James, who was asleep on the couch and walked to the fireplace, waving, and then flooing to her house. When the flames died away, Draco sighed and looked around the place. It really was a nice house, he thought as he went from room to room, and he didn't think he'd mind it much if he had to live here. A person could get used to a place like this.

He walked up the stairs quietly so he wouldn't wake up Lucas if he was asleep. At the top of the stairs, he opened the door to his left. It was Hermione's room, he knew, because he could see her wedding ring glittering in the light of the moon on her bedside table. He knew he should stay out of her room completely, but he had to see it. Her bed was covered in a cream colored blanket, and Draco couldn't resist lying down on it. The bed smelled like her, jasmine and something he had never been able to figure out, and he breathed it in.

He stopped when he heard crying from another room, and realized that it was Luke. He hurried to the room he had heard him, pushing open the door that had only been half shut and crouching by his son's small bed. The poor child must have been having a bad dream, Draco thought, and it did things to his heart that he still couldn't quite understand. "Sh," he soothed, brushing the hair away from Luke's forehead, "You're alright now, I'm here."

Lucas opened his eyes, which had been squeezed tightly shut and looked at Draco with his teary little eyes. "Daddy?" he asked in a small voice.

"Yes, son, it's me," Draco said, his voice thick. The miniature version of himself threw his arms around Draco's neck and held on tightly. Stunned, it took Draco a minute to remember what to do, and he wrapped his own arms around the small child, holding him close, feeling Lucas shake. "What's the matter?" he asked quietly.

"Luke had a bad dream," he sobbed, "A scary man was in my room hiding under my bed."

Draco held the boy tighter, trying to sooth him. "Would you like me to check the bed for you?"

"Uh-huh," Luke said, quieter.

Draco resisted the urge to smile at his son as he said, "Alright, let's look." Setting him on the floor, Draco crouched down even more, getting out his wand and looking under the bed. "Nope, nothing under here," he commented. "Shall I check the closet?" Luke nodded, and grabbed one of Draco's fingers as they walked to the closet door, opening it. "Nothing here either, I'm afraid."

"Can I sleep in Momma's bed?" Luke asked, gripping Draco's finger tighter, as if he was afraid he would say no.

"Of course," Draco said, picking up his son and going back to Hermione's room. Once under the covers, Lucas fell to sleep almost instantly. Draco watched him for a time before lying on the bed beside him, a protective hand on his small shoulder.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Whew! That was a long one. I hope you all liked it! Next we will find out what happens to Ginny, and what Hermione does when she finds Draco in her bed!

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	12. Maybe?

**DISCLAIMER: I hardly have enough money to pay my car insurance. I couldn't buy Harry Potter if I tried.**

**Chapter 12: Maybe?**

Hermione was exhausted. It had taken nearly an hour to get Ginny Potter to stop bleeding, and in that time she had nearly died twice. By the time it was all said and done, there were three doctors working on Ginny, and another two on her small daughter. Hermione had to go back and forth to the supply cabinet so many times for various things that she had lost count, and after giving Ginny four blood transfusions, the doctors gave Ginny a hysterectomy in a last effort to save her life.

Hermione almost felt sorry for the red haired witch as she lay in Intensive Care, deathly pale in a medically induced coma to allow her body to heal properly. The one person she truly felt sorry for was Harry, her friend, the man who had to deal with so much in his life already. He sat diligently beside his wife, clearly petrified. Hermione watched him from the doorway, not wanting to disturb his thoughts. She had been standing there since her shift ended about forty-five minutes earlier, just to make sure Harry was alright.

He hadn't said a word to anyone since she had come to him, accompanied by Healer Geronn, to tell him the bad news. He had sunk into that same plastic chair after jumping up to see what was the matter. He asked if he could see the child, but it was too dangerous; the child was in bad shape. He asked if he could see Ginny, but he wouldn't be allowed to until she was moved to recovery. And then, for only the third or fourth time in all the years she had known Harry Potter, he cried in front of her. Hermione had cried too, mostly for the baby and the fact that Harry was crying, holding him in her arms, and letting him wet her scrub top with his tears.

Eventually, she had to go back to work, but she promised to check in on Ginny when she could. The rest of her shift, she thought only of Harry and the defeated look on his face. When she was done, Hermione rushed to change her clothes and go to Ginny's room, where she found Harry sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, his unruly black hair looking more uncontrollable than ever.

He had barely moved since she got there, and Hermione was scared to talk to him, lest he explode on her. She just couldn't shake the feeling that this was all somehow her fault.

"You know," Harry finally said, still not looking towards Hermione, "I came home tonight thinking we were going to have a nice dinner followed by a long talk. I was going to ask her about what happened with Malfoy… I was going to ask her if what I keep reading in the papers is true. You know, her being the cause of your marriage falling apart.

"I keep getting questioned about it at work, and it's gotten to the point that I can't get my work done, Hermione, because everyone wants to know about what is going on. I was going to make her tell me the truth about things once and for all. Because the truth is, Hermione, I think the papers are right. I think it was Ginny that ruined your marriage. I've been watching her the past few weeks and thinking about a few things. Every time I say something about you or Malfoy, she goes all funny. Like she is in her own little world; she gets a weird look on her face and she doesn't talk…

"The truth is, Hermione, Ginny isn't herself anymore. I don't know if it was the pregnancy that messed with her, but regardless she has changed, and not for the better." Harry put his head in his hands. "And the fact is that I don't think she wants to be with me anymore… and I don't think I can look her in the eye and not see her… with Malfoy."

"Oh Harry," Hermione exclaimed, going to him and giving him a hug. She wiped her eyes as the moisture fell down her cheeks. Looking at Harry made Hermione's heart break.

"It's not your fault, Hermione." She looked at him, confused. "About the baby, I mean. Like you said, sometimes these things happen. You go on. Go home, Hermione to your son. I'll be alright, I promise."

Hermione looked at her friend again. How could she possibly leave him here all by himself? She would be a bad friend if she did. "Harry, you can't stay here by yourself. I won't let you."

Harry shook his head. "Molly is going to come soon, I owled her before you got here. Please, Hermione, you look like you could fall asleep where you stand. Go home. For me. I'll be fine."

Hermione hesitated, still not trusting Harry to be by himself. "You're sure?" she asked. Harry smiled at Hermione and nodded his head. Hermione sighed. "Okay, goodnight then, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione," Harry replied. Hermione sighed once more and walked away from the room to the floo area, where she went to her house.

Something was off, she realized as she stepped from the fireplace in her dark living room, wiping the soot from her clothes. "Hello?" she called, taking her wand from her purse, "Luna? Lucas?" She turned on the nearest lamp, looking around for a sign of struggle. Nothing she could see was out of place; everything was as she had left it.

Terror cursed through her veins as she tried to figure out what could have happened to her son and friend. What if they had been killed? What if they had been kidnapped? She didn't think she could handle anything more going wrong, and she began to hyperventilate as she ran from room to room, searching for any sign of them.

Oh God. She stopped in her tracks. Draco had been right. Chev must have broke in and murdered Luna and her son! A small cry escaped her lips as she took the stairs two at a time, running past her own room to her son's, throwing the door open. The sheets were all over the floor. Luke's teddy bear was nowhere to be found. His favorite blanket was gone. Oh _God!_ Luke had been kidnapped!

Hermione ran from his room and checked every other room, praying that Luna had just taken Lucas to her house. She would be the type not to leave a note.

Throwing open the door to her room, Hermione nearly fell to the ground in shock. There lay Draco asleep on top of the covers and on top of him laid Lucas, her baby, clearly under the covers at one point but he had kicked them off in favor of using his father as a pillow.

Hermione burst into tears, not caring whether she woke both of them up. How could he have done this to her? Making her believe that her son had been taken by some madman, or worse! "Wake up!" she exclaimed, making her way to the bed and smacking Draco's legs as hard as she could. "Wake up you son of a bitch!"

"Ouch! Damn it Hermione, what was that for?" Draco hissed when he woke, sitting up and holding Luke tightly. Luke was half awake and looked like he wasn't very happy to be so. Hermione snatched him from Draco and ignored his question, putting Lucas back in his room and shutting the door, placing a silencing charm on it. Then she made her way back to her bedroom, where Draco was now standing by the window.

The moonlight reflected off his white hair, giving it a silvery glow. "And just what in the hell do you think you are doing in my house?" she snapped, looking at her watch. "At three in the morning no less?"

When he turned, Hermione could see nothing but the outline of his features, giving him an eerie look. "I was taking care of our son," he growled, "I, unlike you, want to raise Lucas. Where in the hell were _you?_"

Hermione marched up to her husband and promptly slapped him across the face. "I was at work, you imbecile! Someone has to be an adult around here! And how dare you say that I don't want Lucas! He is my entire world!" How could he say that to her? She was a thousand times the parent he was! "How did you even get in my house? I thought I told you to never come here."

**XXXXX**

Draco shrugged. "My dear wife," he drawled, "you never told me to stay out of your house. As for how I got in, your friend Looney Lovegood invited me right in, then took James and went to her house." He had to admit that he enjoyed making Hermione mad, he thought as he saw her blush and put her hands on her hips, he liked how it made her practically crackle with fury.

She let out a growl and began pacing in front of him. "Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I got home from an eight hour shift that was hell in the first place to find that the babysitter is gone and my son is not in his bed? Do you know what I was thinking, Draco? Do you?" She was practically yelling at him as she began to wring her hands and continue pacing.

When she finally looked at him, there were tears in her eyes, and it made Draco regret being rude. He had known the whole time she was at work, and he also knew that Hermione was nothing short of the perfect mother to Luke. Damn! Why did he always say the things that would hurt the most?

Because he knew and she knew that deep down he was still an egotistical little boy.

"I thought," Hermione cried, "I thought that Lucas had been taken by that, that man that you incessantly harass me about! Or worse! I thought he may have been killed, and as I turned every single corner in this house I prepared myself to see Luna… dead… and my baby, my Lucas…" She began sobbing, hiding her head with her hands.

Draco made a motion to come towards her, but stopped short when Hermione suddenly shouted, "Do you see? Do you see what you are doing to me, Draco? I'm an emotional bloody mess, and it is all your fault! I would have been fine if you would have just stayed dead, but no! You just have to be alive. Why won't you be dead? Just go, get out of my life and never come back! I don't need you; I don't need anybody!"

It felt as if there were a lump in his throat, and he swallowed a few times quickly, blinking his eyes. God, he was such an asshole! He forgot all the words he had said to her at the therapist. He would wait forever and a day for her, just so she would stop crying! He had broken this woman, quite possibly beyond repair. How could he show that he wasn't going anywhere? That he wasn't going to leave her ever again?

He grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her towards him. "Don't touch me!" she yelled, trying to pull away. She pointed her wand at him and it looked like she was seriously considering using it. Draco didn't care. He grabbed her wand and pulled it from her hand as if it was nothing, throwing it on the floor with a small clatter. She continued struggling against him as he pulled her closer and closer until he was able to wrap his arms around her.

She stiffened against him, and he could feel her leaning against his arms, trying to break his grasp. She was still crying. "Stop it, Hermione!" he exclaimed, "Don't you see? I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, and I always will be." He felt her relax slightly against him, but her sobbing intensified. "I'm not some random person who will come and go from your life in the blink of an eye. I'm not your friends, who get angry with you over petty things. I am your husband, Hermione, your _husband_. And as such, I will stand by you through anything."

Hermione, at that point, was leaning against Draco's chest, sobbing a puddle into his shirt with her arms wrapped around his middle. He leaned down and gently kissed her bushy mane of hair, breathing in the scent of her. "W-why are you sa-saying this to me?" Hermione asked through her sobbing, her head still against his chest.

"Because I love you," Draco replied with a smile.

"Why?"

The question hung in the air like a fog. Why did he love her? Draco had asked himself that question on many occasions, and was never quite able to formulate a specific answer. At times, it would be because she was so damned stubborn, others it would be the way she scrunched up her nose when she laughed really hard. It wasn't anything particular; it was an accumulation of characteristics and habits that made him single her out, out of all other women in the world.

"Because you're you," he said finally, "and you're not ashamed of it like so many other people. The fact that you're not willing to change, not even for me, makes me love you all the more."

They stood in silence for a time in Hermione's dark bedroom, wrapped in each other's arms, the only light coming from the moon streaming through the large windows. Hermione slowly stopped crying, and Draco offered her his handkerchief, which she used to dry her eyes and nose. After that, they barely spoke to one another, but Draco didn't mind.

Sometimes silence said more than any of the words in the world could. He could feel her heart beating slowly and evenly as he held her against him, and as he chanced brushing her hair away from her face, she looked up at him, her bloodshot eyes scrutinizing him for a moment.

"Draco," she said slowly, and then she paused, as if battling something within herself. "Draco, I'm not going to pretend that what has happened never happened. I still believe that you slept with Ginny." Draco opened his mouth to protest, _yet again_, but she put a hand on his mouth to stop him. "Please, let me finish. I did some thinking, and I've decided that I will give you a chance to prove yourself to me."

Draco's heart seemed to skip a beat, but he remained quiet. "However, I have certain conditions. First, we will both continue to go to counseling. Second, you have to stop drinking or at least get control over it; it sets a bad example for Lucas, and frankly, it makes you stink like you took a shower in it. Third, I feel as though we hardly know each other. So from now on, I want us to act as if we are just beginning to see each other, and that means going on dates, getting to know each other again. And finally, even though we technically are married, there will be absolutely no physical intimacy." Hermione looked at Draco as if to dare him to contest.

"Alright," Draco said, trying without success to hide his excitement.

"Alright then," Hermione replied, as if she was conducting business. She grasped Draco's wrists and directed them towards his sides, where they fell limply, still feeling the warmth of her skin even through her clothes.

He watched as she turned away from him and walked to what he could only assume was her closet, opening it and pulling out a silky purple night gown before turning to Draco and saying, "I would thank you, Draco Malfoy, if you would kindly get out of my house."

Draco smirked as he said, "Fine then. Goodnight, Hermione Granger."

He thought he saw her smile as she turned her back to him, muttering, "Goodnight."

Grinning himself, Draco let himself out the front door. In the east he could just see the first brightening of the sky. It was going to be a glorious day; he could feel it in his bones. When he reached the sidewalk, he paused to look up at the light coming from Hermione's bedroom. "Sleep well," he whispered before beginning to whistle as he walked down the street.

**XXXXX**

Chevalier Allin watched from his hiding place in the dining room of the muggles who lived across the street from Hermione Granger Malfoy as her husband, dreaded Draco Malfoy, let himself out and began walking down the street whistling a ridiculous tune. He glared at the man he had once considered to be his friend – but that was years ago and thankfully he had gotten smarter – and considered whether or not he should kill him.

After all, he was supposed to be dead in the first place… those men he hired were supposed to have done the job, leaving no trace of Draco Malfoy. His plans were falling into place perfectly until Malfoy showed up like Jesus risen from the dead. Chev watched as the blond man turned a corner and disappeared from view.

Damn. He should have killed him.

He had never particularly cared for Draco Malfoy. He had been a selfish boy when he met him, and from the looks of things he hadn't changed too much. His wife, on the other hand, well, she seemed like the type who would do anything for anyone. It would almost be a shame to watch her die at his hands. Almost.

Above him, he heard the muggles stir. He remained silent and absolutely still until he heard the sound of the toilet flushing. Then, breathing a sigh of relief, he turned his attention back to the house across the street. It would be too bad if he had to kill the muggles in the house; it would give him up, and he knew that Malfoy would protect his family like a mother bear protects her cubs.

Her bedroom light had gone out. Now would be the perfect time to do it… but no, he would wait. He would wait until the woman paying him handsomely said it was time. The fact that she was paying him one hundred thousand galleons was enough for him to wait for the moon to fall from the sky, let alone kill Hermione Granger Malfoy.

He had to admit, though, that he didn't particularly want to kill her. When they met that day in the hotel in Diagon Alley, he found her to be a rather charming witch. Other than her extremely puffy hair, he found her to be an attractive woman. Maybe, before he killed her and that brat of hers, he would get some fun from the situation.

Yes, he thought with a smile, he would do just that.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Yay for the quick update! I'm rather impressed with myself. What is going to happen next?

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	13. The Heart Wants What It Wants

**DISCLAIMER: I'm fairly certain that if I owned Harry Potter I wouldn't have to mow my parents' lawn for money.  
**

**Chapter 13: The Heart Wants What It Wants**

Through the grapevine and the multiple headings in the Daily Prophet, Draco found out that Ginny Potter had had her child; a girl, which Potter named Lillian Margaret. He had to admit that he had nearly choked on his fork as he picked up the paper Monday morning, for covering nearly the entire page was a picture of Potter looking through a glass window at a baby so small that Draco couldn't be sure that it was even human.

Of course, he himself had a very limited experience with children, but he had seen enough pictures and people on the street with babies to know that that baby was very sick. That fact, however, was not what made Draco nearly meet his Maker at the breakfast table. It was because the very sick child in front of him could very well be _his_ child. He had not really believed that the child Ginny was carrying was his, in fact, he had pondered whether the pregnancy was even real, but now the evidence was staring him in the face.

It made him want to shove that fork down his throat again on purpose. And as much as he felt like an ass just thinking about it, he honestly didn't want the child, even if it was his. Besides, as he looked at the picture of the alien-like baby with a small pink bow adhered to her nearly bald head; he didn't _feel_ like the baby was his.

When his mother had first shown him pictures of Lucas, he knew instantly that the child was his own flesh and blood. It wasn't because his mother had told him so, it was because he had _felt_ it; in his gut, his heart, his very soul. He couldn't very well explain it, but he had felt an immediate connection with his son, even though he first met him through pictures. Seeing him in person had just cemented that bond; that small boy, insolent and stubborn though he was, snaked his way into Draco's heart in a way that could never be undone.

Maybe it was because the baby didn't look like a human that made him feel like it wasn't his. Maybe if he saw her in person he would feel differently… the newspaper photo was rather blurry after all. If the child was his, he would surely know when he saw her. He just hoped to God that she was not his.

It wasn't as if he hated children – he actually found them to be quite humorous little buggers – it was just that if this baby, Lillian, was really his, his life was about to get a million times more complicated. Even though Hermione was giving him a second chance, she only thought that he had slept with Ginny let alone had a child with her. If she knew that, well, Draco wasn't so sure that Hermione wouldn't send the killing curse his way, second chance or not.

Spinning his fork around in his hand, he seriously considered stabbing himself in the throat. It was pathetic, he knew, to take death over dealing with the fact that his life was fucked up. But Draco knew who he was and knowing who Hermione was, it would probably be better for everyone if he did it himself before his wife got to him. Then again he was a selfish man, and way too young to die.

Draco dropped his fork onto his plate, still half full of eggs and toast, and took out his wand. He picked up the newspaper and crumpled it up, throwing it into the fireplace and igniting it before getting up and heading to his room to get dressed. He brushed past his mother, who had obviously just woken up, without so much as a good morning – he hadn't been able to bring himself to speak to her since the first therapy session nearly a week before when he learned she hadn't tried to find Hermione – climbing the stairs, walking to his room and shutting the door with a loud bang.

Not sure what to wear, Draco stood before his closet for a few moments. He didn't know why he felt that his appearance mattered when he went to see that damned therapist, but nevertheless he wanted to look sharp, if only to remind himself that he was better than Dr. Hutchens. After all, he was only going to therapy to please Hermione. He didn't think that he would get any good from it. Sometimes he didn't understand his wife's strange thinking… Draco thought that it was useless to get someone else involved with the problems that they themselves should work out, but Hermione seemed to think it would do some good.

Settling on black pants, a white button up shirt, blue striped tie, and a black vest from one of his three piece suits, Draco got dressed. When he finished, he glanced at the clock and noticed that it was only 7:00AM. Merlin! He hadn't been up that early in months. Hell the sun was barely even up! Draco sat down on the bed, thinking of taking a short nap before his nine o'clock appointment at the therapist… after all, he would need all the energy he could summon in order to restrain himself from ringing the doctor's bloody neck.

No, he decided, it would be worthless to sleep now; because when he was up he was up. He could read a book… but he wasn't sure that he could concentrate on it; there were just too many things on his mind. He did know of one thing he could do, but he wanted to avoid seeing his possible daughter at all costs because what if it was his? He wasn't sure his fragile mind could handle it without the aid of alcohol, which he had promised Hermione he wouldn't drink anymore. Shit.

But it seemed that the more he tried not to think about that baby, the more it became glued into his mind. He had to know the truth, even if it killed him, self inflicted or otherwise. Besides, if the child was his, it would be best if he told Hermione before Ginny got a chance to.

Yes, that would defiantly be for the best.

Deciding to act on the impulse before he could talk himself out of it, Draco Malfoy rose from his bed, rushed out of the house ignoring his mothers worried, "Draco?" and walked down to the apparation point at the end of the lane. Taking a deep breath, Draco closed his eyes and thought of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

In an instant, he was standing in the entrance of the place trying to regain his balance. The area was deserted, save for a black haired witch sitting behind a rather large desk dozing lightly. Draco rolled his eyes – wondering how such an establishment allowed people like _that _to work there – and went up three flights of stairs and turned to the right, where he found the doors to the Maternity and Infant Ward. A large sign painted on the door asked for anyone entering to please be quiet, as mothers and babies needed their rest.

Sighing, Draco pushed one of the doors open. Somewhere in the department there was a baby crying, that high pitched sound only newborns could make, and its mother singing softly. Other than that, the only noise was of the nurses and healers tending to patients; shuffling around and muttering. The sound of the silence was nearly overwhelming to Draco as he walked down the extensive hall reading the names on the doors of the rooms, noting that some of them were the names of former class and housemates, but none were the name of the one person he wanted to see, even if it was just to spit at her feet.

Then, just when he was about to give up, Draco found what he was looking for. Ginny Potter's door was closed, the miniscule window covered so no one could peek in. Ignoring yet another sign that asked no one to disturb – because since when had Draco followed the rules? – he opened the door quietly.

The room was dark; the only light coming from the window was dull. He could just make out the form of Ginny lying flat on the bed not moving, and even in the dark he could see that she was deathly pale. Her fiery orange hair had been put in a messy braid, which stood out against her white skin. And she was so still that for a moment he thought she might be dead, but he could see the slight rise and fall of her chest, and knew that she wasn't… yet. Magical machines beeped and buzzed all around her, so many that they seemed to create their own little song. Slumped in a chair next to her was Harry Potter, his childhood nemesis, sleeping with his glasses askew.

Draco stifled a laugh as he looked at Potter, and he would have taken the opportunity to insult the man had he not felt rather sorry for him. Even if he did hate them both to bits, Potter didn't deserve to have such a shitty wife, or a baby that was most likely going to die.

A baby, he thought, that very well could be his. His breath caught and he backed out of the room quickly, shutting the door behind him and leaning against the wall trying not to hyperventilate.

He couldn't deal with it. Everything was just too much for him to handle. Hermione possibly being stalked by Chev. Ginny. Especially Ginny, the conniving little bitch who nearly destroyed everything he held dear. Never seeing his only son, not knowing whether he was alright; not seeing him grow up. And now the baby, complicating things.

How had his life gotten so messed up? How had he gone from the man he had been four years earlier – with the perfect life and wonderful wife – to now? He felt like he was hanging onto sanity by a thread; a thread that was beginning to fray and soon would break if he made the wrong move.

Draco rubbed his eyes for a moment trying to take deep, even breaths. It wouldn't do any good to brood on the past, he knew, because there was nothing he could do to change it. No matter how much he wanted to. Damn it!

He pushed off the wall and went back towards the doors he came in, stopping in front of the large window filled room that was used as a corral of some sorts for the babies. He watched them, those tiny humans, each in either a blue or pink blanket as they squirmed, flailing their small appendages around in their tiny cribs, some of them with their mouths open wide crying. He could only imagine the commotion in that room.

And then he saw her, the alien-like baby he had seen in the newspaper. A nurse in the room had been standing in front of her, feeding her or something like that, and when she moved to write something on Lillian's chart, he saw the plastic looking box that the child was in, something covering her eyes that looked like what Hermione had once described as sunglasses. Unlike the other babies, Lillian looked like she had tubes in both her nose and mouth, and Draco could visibly see her heart beating in her chest. She was about half the size of the other babies, and Draco figured her arm was about as big around as one of his fingers.

A peculiar sensation swept through Draco's body as he watched her. It wasn't the instant connection he had felt when he saw his son, but it wasn't hate either. It was not quite indifference, but not real concern. He felt sorry for Lillian Potter that was all. Poor thing had a big fight ahead of her, and the outlook wasn't good. He watched as the nurse put an impossibly small pink hat on the baby's head, which was covered with fine brown hair.

Relief tried to make its way into him as he took in the color of the child's hair. It was well known in his family that blond was usually the color of any Malfoy's hair. Usually. It was still possible for someone to have a different color, like his great-great aunt, who had had a wonderful auburn color. After all, the Malfoy genes were not set in stone. It wasn't impossible, but it was highly unlikely.

Still, Draco Malfoy needed to know for sure. A blood test would settle matters once and for all and as he turned away from the room full of babies, headed towards his goddamned therapy appointment, he stopped for long enough to give a sample of his blood to the laboratory head, who assured him – after several threats – that the results would be in before the day's end.

**XXXXX**

Hermione was determined to never eat ever again. For the past week she had vomited every single time she even _thought_ of food, and when she had tried to eat a grape that morning for breakfast, she was violently ill for nearly an hour. Lucas, bless his little heart, had been a dear and held her hair away from her face as she used her own hands to not fall into the toilet. She had not wanted him in the bathroom with her, lest he start asking questions and for the simple fact that retching was disgusting enough to do, let alone watch, but he had insisted that he help her, and in her sickness she wasn't willing to fight it.

And yet despite the fact that she wasn't able to eat and had lost nearly five pounds, she couldn't zip her pants up entirely when she went to dress for her appointment with Dr. Hutchens. Wonderful. Wasn't that just the cherry on her bad day sundae? She swore under her breath as she threw the pants across the room, content to see them crumple on the floor in defeat. Going to her closet, she ended up wearing leggings and a purple dress that was loose enough that she was sure she could hide a watermelon under it without anyone knowing.

She sighed as she looked in the mirror, putting her unruly hair into a messy bun, and took in her pale complexion. She decided that she looked like she was on the verge of death with her pasty skin and dark circles under her eyes. Maybe she could call Dr. Hutchens and cancel the appointment… because she defiantly wasn't in any condition to speak about her marriage and personal life. Alas, she couldn't, because the court had demanded both she and Draco attend. And though she was giving Draco a chance that she felt he really didn't deserve, if the shit hit the fan she didn't want him to use it against her.

And so, fifteen minutes later, after dropping Luke off with Molly Weasley, Hermione found herself alone sitting in the waiting area of Dr. Hutchens trying to ignore the sympathetic look on his secretary's face. Because, for Christ's sake, she was not about to let herself become anybody's charity case! She glanced at her watch, noticing that it was nearly ten. She took a deep breath and looked at the secretary again, who smiled and turned as bright of crimson as the dress she was wearing before looking away quickly, pretending to be busy with something.

Didn't these people have anything better to do than to spy on her marriage? It was all getting a bit ridiculous.

Just then, the door to Dr. Hutchens' office opened, revealing her husband… her very happy looking husband. She had thought that he didn't want to do therapy; his small smile was confusing. Maybe he had switched to harder drugs than alcohol… that seemed like a logical explanation.

She averted her eyes as Draco took notice of her, approaching her quickly. Hermione's cheeks burned as she remembered the way he had kissed her, held her in his arms and told her he wasn't going to leave her; ever. She also remembered the way she had so brashly took a skimpy little nightgown from her closet before asking him to leave, then not even waiting until he had shut the door to begin undressing.

Maybe she was just desperate enough to want him to stay – to want him to take advantage of her.

Or, maybe she was finally losing it.

Yes, Hermione liked answer two much more.

"Good morning, Hermione," Draco said cheerily. Good morning my ass. Hermione raised her eyebrows, but did not speak as she looked at her husband. Once again, it appeared as though Draco Malfoy had a better night sleep than she had. Bugger!

"Are you alright?" he asked as a frown came over his features. His gray eyes searched her face as if trying to detect what it was. If only he knew… "You look a bit peaked. Have you lost weight?"

Hermione shook her head saying rather too pleasantly, "I'm fine, just tired is all." She tried to smile. She was positive that it looked like a hideous bearing of teeth.

Draco's frown became more evident, but he shrugged, muttering, "If you're sure…" He kneeled in front of the chair Hermione was sitting in, grabbing both of her hands. She quelled the urge to pull away, reminding herself that she had been the one to agree to let him at least have a chance. "I've made reservations for us, for dinner, tonight at The Midnight Café." He paused and cleared his throat. His thumbs were making pleasant circling motions on her hands. "That is, if you don't have any plans."

It was cute, she decided, the way he looked at her, as if he was silently begging her to say yes. In fact, Hermione found herself saying yes to dinner and actually meaning it; and was that… excitement she was feeling in her stomach?

Well of course it was, she told herself, it's not every day one had a second first date, or any date for that matter. She herself hadn't been on a date in years, and the thought of going on one, even with her husband, made her feel like a fifteen year old girl. All nervous and giggly (although she was surprised at how well she was containing _that_) and shy. And she was not one to be at a loss for words.

A boyish grin came upon Draco's face, and he kissed each of her hands quickly – which Hermione also found sweet in a sick way – getting to his feet. "I'll pick you up at seven?" he asked.

Hermione nodded and attempted to smile once again, saying "I'll see you then," just in time for the secretary to interrupt.

"Mrs. Malfoy? Dr. Hutchens will see you now." She eyed both Hermione and Draco before sighing heavily as if the entire weight of the world was on her shoulders, making her way back to the desk she had come from.

Draco winked at her as he turned away, walking to that same desk and making his next appointment. Hermione stood from her chair and walked to the doctors door, pausing to watch as Draco smiled once more at her as he walked out of the office.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, because Hermione found herself quite enjoying being insane.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Yes, I know it's a bit cheesy in some parts… oh well. Next we will find out what happened in therapy, and (gasp) Draco and Hermione's first date! (:

Thank you so much for reviewing: **vampiregurl, dreamysilverdragon08, ELC19, snapeluna, OBLuvr13, Darkness holds me tightly, Sin-and-Smokin, lrmorena, Lady Katherine2, crystalight22, TeamBoyRobotUSA **Cyber hugs for everyone!

As always, review! I like to know what you think.


	14. All the Right Moves

**DISCLAIMER: I may be free, but I am not free to own Harry Potter.  
**

**Chapter 14: All the Right Moves**

Hermione stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, taking in her appearance as she waited for Draco to come for their date. The new knee length gray dress, bought just after her appointment, nicely hid the almost noticeable thickening in her abdomen and the capped sleeves hid her thin shoulders that would surely not escape Draco's notice lest he see them. She didn't know what to do with her unruly hair, so she mimicked the bun she had done that morning and put a long string of pearls around her neck. The only part of her outfit she truly liked were her shoes, beautiful sparkly black high heels.

She took a deep breath and smoothed her dress once more. She was deathly nervous, and the more she thought about spending time alone with Draco the more she thought that this was a bad idea. How would she be able to have a conversation with him over dinner when the very thought of food made her stomach turn? And what if she said something wrong? What if she acted like a complete idiot in front of him? What if she tripped and made a fool out of herself? She didn't know if she could handle that kind of humiliation.

Thinking back to her appointment earlier that morning, Dr. Hutchens words rang in her head after she told him about their date. "Spending time together will be good for your relationship," he had said, with what Hermione could only call a smug look on his face. "It will give you a chance to realize why you fell in love and married in the first place."

"But Dr. Hutchens, I don't know why I married Draco in the first place!" she had insisted.

"And why is that, Hermione?"

Hermione glanced around the room, trying to think of a reason. "It's just… we were married so young… I was only eighteen for crying out loud! Sometimes I wonder if the reason I married him was because I wanted to have sex and he was willing. How could I have made such a big decision when my hormones were driving me crazy? I think it was a mistake… one we and our children will have to pay for the rest of our lives."

The doctor held out a box of tissues, and Hermione gratefully took one, dabbing at her eyes. "Tell me, Hermione, when you learned of Draco's demise, was your reaction that of a person who just lost their sexual partner? Or is it possible that you reacted as a wife would act when she lost her husband?"

"Of course I cared for him, and still do!" Hermione exclaimed. "He is the father of my son and the new baby… how could I not have some feelings for him? It's just that I don't know if I really loved him when we got married! We fought constantly, huge disagreements that left us not talking for days. And I know what you're thinking; it wasn't for the making up aspect. We really fought; about stupid things that seemed to mean the world to us, like what color to paint our room. It was things like that… and I didn't realize it at the time, but maybe I was trying to push him away, to make him feel the way he made me feel for all those years.

"Maybe the reason I was so upset when I thought he was dead was because I didn't want to be left alone to raise our child when he promised me he would always be there for me. You see, I didn't want to have children until I was at least twenty-five, and when I got pregnant at eighteen, I thought my world was ended. But Draco was so excited for that baby! It was unreal to see someone so happy. And he helped me to see that it would be fun to have a child – something that completely belonged to us."

"Could you be afraid to be alone with him because you haven't been for years?"

Hermione looked at her hands. "I – I suppose it's possible. The entire time we've been married, we've either had his family around or Lucas or my friends. I don't know how to act around him because the only other way I've ever spent time with him was when he was mean to me in school. I'm frightened that I'll do something wrong."

"That is understandable." Dr Hutchens paused, adjusting his ridiculous spectacles. "It is typical to feel the need to be perfect in the eyes of someone you care about; often people fear that if they do something that reveals something about the side of them they don't want their partner to know, that they will be thought less of or their partner will lose interest."

Hermione sighed. "But Draco has seen me at my best and my worst! He knows how I can be just like I know how he can be. There is nothing that I don't know about him. And that's why I don't want to be alone with him. I don't know if I can handle him… he can be so overwhelming and I never seem to have any control over my feelings when I'm with him."

"How does he make you feel? What is so disconcerting about him?"

"He confuses me so! Half the time, I want to beat him senseless and the other half I want to – pardon my brashness – rip off his clothes and have my way with him. And one instant Draco will be the sweetest and most considerate person, and the next he is exploding, going back to how he was when we were in school and on the verge of calling me a mudblood again. He is a completely different person when he is with Lucas; he is so patient and caring and attentive, it makes my heart ache just watching them together.

"Lucas thinks the world of him, and I think that is what scares me the most. Draco is so unpredictable that I'm afraid if I do even one thing wrong he will use it against me to get custody of our son… he would get it too, if the court saw how he cares for him, no matter what his past is.

"And then the way he looks at me sometimes. Like that first night I spent with him when I found out that he was alive. The way he looked at me was frightening. It was different than I could remember him ever looking at me. I can't really describe it… I don't know if it was lust, desire or even hate. It was like he wanted to consume me in both a literal and figurative way. But I was so angry with him for leaving me and overjoyed about him being alive that I may have been seeing things." Hermione stopped, wiping her eyes. "Dr. Hutchens, I don't think I can stand being around him knowing what he has done to us and our marriage."

Dr. Hutchens was pensive for a few moments, writing a few things in his notebook. Hermione had waited awkwardly, wiping her eyes and sniffling occasionally.

"Could it be possible," he had said finally, "that what you are really afraid of is that if you allow yourself to love your husband – to stop pushing him away –that you will lose him all over again?"

Maybe he was right, Hermione decided as she turned away from her mirror and picked up her purse. Maybe on some subconscious level she thought that if she let Draco in the way she had before that he would leave again, this time maybe forever. And why the hell would she not have done something like that? She still sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, crying from one of her all too vivid nightmares about Draco being dead and Blaise Zabini coming to tell her. She didn't think that she could handle that kind of pain again.

Then again, no one had ever made Hermione feel the way Draco did. And no matter how much she got hurt, she didn't want to lose that feeling.

No matter how much of an ass Draco could be.

**XXXXX**

Draco took a deep breath as he rang the doorbell. He had never felt so nervous in all his life; not even when he had to face Voldemort's wrath, not even when he had gone on his first date with Hermione. Then again, at that time he hadn't known that dinner would have turned into what it had, he didn't think of much more than what he was going to do the next day.

Now he was sure that he thought entirely too much. He thought about what would happen if he did something wrong and made Hermione angrier than he knew she still was, about what would happen to his life if he couldn't see Lucas. He worried about Hermione's health – all her baggy clothes couldn't hide the thinness of her body. He worried that Ginny's child was his and cursed the lab for not getting the results to him yet. But most of all, he worried about the date he was about to go on, because if he made a fool of himself he wasn't sure what he would do.

But he had to try to be normal, try to make the date as successful as possible so Hermione would forgive and forget. Mainly it was for the sake of his sanity; with Chev on the loose he didn't want her out of his sight because he was sure he would go crazy. For the sake of his son, who deserved to know his father. For the sake of the marriage that was still in ruins. He had to try, if not for himself, for Hermione.

That morning, Dr. Hutchens had said something that Draco believed to be the only helpful thing he had ever heard from that mouth of his. They had been discussing Draco's disappearance in detail, which Draco did not wish to remember, but the doctor had said it was necessary to heal.

Inevitably, they ended up on the subject on Hermione and the reasons she didn't trust him. After a heated discussion where Draco threatened to walk out lest the man accuse him of intentionally staying away from his wife after he escaped the doctor spoke. "Death is never easy for anyone, Mr. Malfoy. It changes the very core of a person's being, sometimes breaking them forever. You need to understand this, Draco, it is the only way you will regain Hermione's trust. _You_ need to be the one to put the pieces back together. _You_ need to fix Hermione. Therapy only brings the issues to the surface to help you realize what the real problem is so you can fix it. There is only so much I can do; you need to do the rest."

"How in the hell am I supposed to do that?" Draco spat.

"Show her how much you care for her; show her why you fell in love with her in the first place. Show her that you won't ever leave her."

And that was exactly what Draco planned on doing. He would show Hermione that she was the only woman in the world that he wanted, that he would ever want. He would show her how much she meant to him, how his world only existed because of her.

The door opened suddenly, and Hermione stood before him. She was pale as a ghost, making Draco worry that there was something she wasn't telling him… maybe she had the flu and needed to stay home? Then she smiled at him, warming Draco, helping him to quell the urge to check her forehead for a fever. "Hello, Draco," she said pleasantly.

For a moment he was struck dumb by the sight of her, her beautiful face so near his because of the shoes she was wearing and her delicate jaw line open to his gaze because of the way she wore her hair. Remembering his manners, Draco held out the small bouquet of red roses and replied, "Good evening, Miss Granger, you look beautiful tonight."

Color flooded her pale cheeks and she took the flowers without meeting his eyes, murmuring, "Thank you," and smelling them. "They are lovely… and you look handsome as well. Just let me put these in some water and then we can go." Draco waited patiently at the door while Hermione found a vase and put the flowers in it. So far so good.

After locking the door both the Muggle way and using magic, Draco escorted her down the walk to the vehicle he had rented just for the occasion. Apparating just wasn't as romantic as riding in a car, Draco knew… it was one of the only things his mother had said to him in the past two weeks that he had listened to.

Neither he nor Hermione talked much on the ride to the street that would lead them into Diagon Alley, except to comment about where Lucas was spending the evening and the nice weather they'd been having. Draco was at a loss for things to say. He wanted to say something witty that would make her laugh or start a conversation that would last longer than a few moments, but his mind was blank, paralyzed with the fear that he would say something that would push her away or make her angry.

He wished that Hermione would say something, anything to break the awkward silence that permeated the vehicle. Even if it was towards the driver to tell him to speed up or slow down. But she remained as silent as him, staring out the window at the houses and buildings going by. He looked down at his hands, straightened his tie, and thought about food. Without even thinking, he blurted out, "Are you hungry?"

Wow Draco, he thought with embarrassment flooding his cheeks, smooth. Really smooth.

Hermione smirked and replied, "Oh yes, I'm famished." Draco swore he detected a hint of sarcasm in her words, but dismissed it to give Hermione the benefit of the doubt.

"Me too," he said to no one in particular.

No more words were spoken until they had walked through the secret entrance to Diagon Alley and to the restaurant Draco had chosen specifically for the occasion. Holding the door open for Hermione, he smiled as she walked past him, anticipating her reaction.

She sucked in her breath as she looked around. "Is this where…" she trailed off as she looked around the place with large eyes.

Draco looked at his wife and smiled, noting that for all her paleness and the darkness of the room she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; her skin was fairly glowing. "Yes," he said quietly as they waited for someone to seat them, "this is where we came that night after I got out of the hospital, after you saved my life the first time." He chuckled as he remembered the horrified look on Hermione's face when she had seen all the couples and candles and dim lights. "Who would have thought back then that we'd end up married?"

A faint smile appeared on her perfect mouth but disappeared just as quickly. "Indeed," she replied, looking up at him. "This is sweet of you Draco, I really mean it."

He was taken off guard when she lightly caressed his cheek, her soft hand sending electricity through his body. He was forced to ball his hands into fists to keep from taking her in his arms and kissing her until she fainted. He felt a little annoyance as he remembered the way Hermione had made it painstakingly clear that there was to be absolutely no intimacy between them… at least not at first. No, they would pretend as if they were strangers who just happened to share a child and a last name; and while he would respect her wishes, he couldn't be the only one. Hermione would have to try just as hard to keep her hands off of him too.

Her pale cheeks once again flooded with color as she looked away, and Draco could practically feel the humiliation radiating from her although he couldn't figure out what the problem was. It wasn't as if she had tried to rip his clothes off. Thank goodness for the young witch that came to seat them, chattering away about things that Draco didn't listen to – it was just white noise – while taking them back to a corner table. Hermione deliberately refused to look in his direction, and remained silent when he held her chair for her.

She stared at the tablecloth as the waitress poured water for them and Draco looked at his menu but he could see that she was taking quick glances at him when she thought she wasn't looking. "So," he said finally, laying his menu on the table, "what are you going to eat?" Oh Merlin, there he went with the food thing again. Why couldn't he think of anything better to talk about? Sports, maybe? No, Hermione didn't like sports. The weather? No, they'd already talked enough about that. Their marriage? He almost laughed out loud at that thought; he'd only talk about that if he wanted to ruin this date even more.

"Yes," Hermione said, more to herself than him, reaching to pick up her menu. A clatter of glass followed, followed by the icy sensation of freezing water running down his new suit and onto his lap. Gasping at the coldness of the water, Draco looked to his wife, seeing the sudden tears in her wide eyes and the slight 'o' shape of her mouth. And then, as if snapping out of a trance, Hermione took her napkin and began furiously blotting at the drenched table, crying a bit loudly. "Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen, honestly! The glass must have been on top of my menu and I didn't notice –"

"Hermione," Draco said calmly, reaching out and taking the piece of cloth from her hand, "it's alright. It was an accident. Please sit. I'll take care of it." Hermione looked at him with tears falling down her cheeks. Little curls had already managed to escape from her up-do and she brushed them away from her face as if they were insects.

"Oh," was all she said before collapsing in her chair and putting her head in her hands, sobbing.

Feeling a bit frantic himself, Draco took out his wand exclaiming, "See? It's no big deal, it was only water." He dried himself and the table, righted the glass and refilled it with water. "You don't need to feel bad or cry. I didn't melt." It was a pathetic attempt at a joke, assuming Hermione was familiar with the book _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_, but he hoped she would laugh. Anything so that she wasn't crying.

She looked up at him with her watery eyes. Mascara was running down her cheeks and she smirked. "No," she said, "I suppose you didn't melt." Draco took his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, watching as she wiped her face. He smiled when she finished, saying, "I'm sorry Draco, I didn't mean to do that… it's just… I'm so nervous! I don't think I've been more nervous in my entire life."

At that, Draco laughed out loud. "It's not funny, Malfoy!" Hermione hissed.

"Oh, but it is!" Draco laughed, "Here I've been sitting the entire night just as scared as you! I thought that I had done something to upset you and that was why you weren't saying anything… and it's just a case of bad nerves! What a pair the two of us make!"

Hermione giggled. "Indeed!" she exclaimed, taking her glass and clinking it with Draco's on the table. "Cut from the same mold!" She began laughing, the first genuine laugh he heard from her since he could remember. "We're made for each other, Draco Malfoy," she commented as she continued to laugh almost hysterically.

Draco stopped laughing and watched Hermione. Did she mean what she said? Did she really think they were meant to be together? Hope and fear gripped his heart.

He didn't mention her comment when she calmed down, nor when they came to a lull in their conversing about the old days when they were in school or what was going on at Hermione's job. Maybe she hadn't realized what she said. Maybe she did, but didn't want to bring it up because she regretted it.

So he kept quiet and let her chatter away about this or that, talking about things he thought she would want to hear about all through dinner, taking note of the way she ate her food ravenously as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. She certainly had that appearance.

About halfway through eating her dinner, Hermione grew quiet and stopped eating. She played with the food and supplied comments when Draco asked a question or remarked on something, and Draco got the feeling that he had said something wrong to make her angry. She looked paler than she had, if possible, than when they had got to the restaurant. He asked if she wasn't feeling well and if she wanted to go home, but she had insisted that she was fine.

However, when he was in the process of explaining why his father was passing the family business – mainly managing the assets built up by previous Malfoys, and owning a few prominent businesses – to him, she exclaimed suddenly that maybe she wasn't feeling so well and ran to the bathroom. He stopped the next waitress he saw and had her look in on Hermione to make sure she was alright, and found out she was losing her dinner.

Draco felt bad that he had made her sit there when she was obviously not feeling well while he went on about things that didn't matter because he was afraid he had done something wrong. She had obviously not looked well when he picked her up for their evening out. He should have rescheduled, rather than making Hermione sicker than she already was.

Which brought up another thought. Why was she sick in the first place? He remembered that first day at the therapist when Hermione was bent over the trashcan. He hadn't thought about it much since then, but now that he thought about it, she had been sick an awful lot lately. If she was sick enough that she was losing weight, which she noticeably had, she should be in the hospital or at least see a doctor. It wasn't normal for someone to vomit so much.

He folded his arms, determined to get it out of Hermione what was the matter with her when she came from the bathroom and drag her to the emergency room if it came to that.

She came back a few minutes later, whiter than ever. "Hermione," Draco said immediately, "what is the matter?"

Hermione tried to smile as she sat down in her seat. "I guess dinner wasn't sitting well with me," she said nonchalantly, as if talking about the color of the floor.

"It isn't just that," Draco continued assertively. "I know this isn't the first time you've been sick, and I want to know why." Hermione gave him a look. "Don't look at me like that. I saw you sick at the therapists. You've lost weight, and all your little tricks won't hide it. If there is something wrong, you need to go to the doctor or the hospital. There could be something seriously wrong. And if you're bulimic – yes, I know what that is – you need to get help. Tell me, please, its making me crazy."

Hermione looked at him for a moment, smiling faintly. "It is sweet of you to worry about me, Draco. I'm fine. I promise."

Frustration was building quickly in Draco. "You're not fine, Hermione! I wasn't born yesterday. I know something isn't right. Now tell me."

Hermione sighed as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders and looked away, into the room that had filled with customers. "Fine," she said reluctantly. "It isn't as if you wouldn't find out sooner or later. Draco, I'm –"

"Draco Malfoy?" a man asked.

Draco looked at the man who had appeared from nowhere by his side and glared, hissing, "What is it? Can't you see I'm busy here?"

"This is for you," said the man, holding an envelope. Draco snatched it from the man and opened it, pulling the contents out that the man had seemed to think more important than what Hermione had to say.

It was from St. Mungo's.

The test results.

Draco skipped over the majority of it, stopping only when he reached the bottom.

The results had been inconclusive.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Hello all! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I took a summer class and on top of that, my one sister got married (everyone congratulate **Harrylover12189!**) and my other sister going to have a baby any day now. (: Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I made it extra long!

Thank you for reviewing: **FlowerChild67, vampiregurl, Darkness holds me tightly, lrmorena, Sin-and-Smokin, inlov10, TeamBoyRobotUSA, OBLuvr13, Hotchocolatelove, mentarisenga, Mrs. Piggi, Akito Alice Kurt Li, Egg D **You guys are great!

As always, review! I like to know what you think.


	15. Hello Hell? No, this is Life

**DISCLAIMER: I have approximately four weeks of freedom remaining before I must make my inevitable return to college; four weeks to pretend Harry Potter is mine. Drat!**

**Chapter 15: Hello Hell? No, this is Life.**

"What is that?" Hermione asked when the man who had appeared so suddenly had left earshot. "What's the matter?"

Draco was looking around the room as if someone was watching somewhere with a machine gun, just waiting to dive in for the kill. Sweat glistened on his upper lip. "Nothing," he remarked, his voice cracking. "What were you saying?"

Hermione did her best to breathe and remain in control of her ridiculous emotions lest she burst into tears again. How humiliating that would be! "I believe I asked you first, Draco Malfoy. What was so important on that piece of paper that it could not wait until our date was over?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes. Something was defiantly not right. "It's not important."

Hermione crossed her arms and looked at her husband as sternly as she could – like the way she looked at Lucas before handing out a punishment – and expressed, "Quit lying to me. You look like someone just threatened you within an inch of your life, and as your wife, I deserve to know." As the words slipped from her mouth, Hermione wished she could take them back. Their marriage was an extremely touchy subject to say the least, and the resulting fight would be disastrous to not only their marriage, but the restaurant's material possessions as well.

She knew it was coming when Draco's expression hardened and his eyes narrowed. "As my wife?" Draco suddenly spat, "Hermione, you haven't considered yourself my wife in months – years probably – so why should I consider you my wife? You said so yourself that you wanted us to act as if we were just beginning to date, and since I barely know you there is no logical reason why I should tell you any damn thing. This is my private matter."

Hermione cringed at the way he threw her previous words back in her face. That wasn't how she meant to say it! She only meant that she was genuinely concerned about what was in that letter that had Draco so upset. She didn't want to shove it in his face yet again that she was resentful of him.

And if he got that upset about her asking about that letter – now being shoved violently into Draco's suit coat – how would he react if Hermione told him the truth about why she was so sick all of a sudden? He would be furious with her for sure for messing things up between them even more. It would ruin their fragile relationship because he would hold it over her head that she kept something from him. But… wouldn't it be better to tell him now, in the earlier stages of this pregnancy, than wait until she was so huge that she couldn't see her feet? It would, she decided, but not now, not this night.

"Well then," Hermione said coolly, "the reasons why I am sick are none of your business either. Why would I want to trust a stranger with that information?"

She smiled inwardly as Draco's superior attitude faded, but he still appeared angry. "I think I have every reason to know why my date for the evening just wasted my money for a dinner she can't even keep down!"

"And I think I have every reason to know why _my_ date was ruined because the man I am with can't seem to keep his work in the workplace or even be polite! Excuse me, I've had enough of this for one night."

With another menacing look towards her husband, Hermione daintily wiped her mouth with her napkin and set it on the table with a flourish. Then, she got up as gracefully as she could manage, her cheeks flaming, and walked towards the door ignoring the looks of the other guests.

"Fine!" Draco shouted after her, "Leave then! I've never been on a more atrocious date in my life!"

If he thought that would make her turn around, he was sorely mistaken. Hermione held her head high as she clipped away from him, not even smiling or saying thank you to the boy who's only job was to open the door for people.

The streets were dark and Hermione hurried along towards the entrance to Muggle London. So much for giving Draco Malfoy a chance to prove himself to her! Dr. Hutchens had been wrong. If the evening had proved anything, it was that she was right when she had said that she had only married him because her hormones were going crazy. It hadn't been love; it was lust. She had only been taken by the fact that someone was interested in her besides Ronald Weasley, that someone had wanted her for more than just her homework abilities.

She had probably been taken by the fact that he was a bad boy, too. Yes, Draco was nothing but a bad boy with a bad temper. Sometimes it had been like having another child to take care of. The only difference between him and a real child was that Hermione had never had to change Draco's diaper.

Yes, Hermione was nearly one hundred percent sure that she had married Draco for lust.

Nearly.

"Hermione?" The voice was familiar.

She turned to see a tall dark man emerging from one of the various shops in Diagon Alley, a hat pulled low over his eyes. "Yes?" she asked, squinting to try and make out who it was. His hat blocked out most of his face, and she could just barely see a hint of black hair under it.

"Don't you remember me?" the man asked as he smiled. "And here I thought you would. We met only months ago."

Hermione frowned, thinking. "Chev?" she asked finally.

"At your service," he commented with a small bow.

Hermione smiled. This was the man who had helped her through a tough time, helped her move from the clutches of Ginny and Harry Potter. Draco's words ran through her head, making her smile falter. _"Hermione, Chev is a murderer."_ But how could that be true when he seemed like such a nice person? Draco had probably only been trying to scare her into submission… she wasn't so naive as to think that this nice man before her was capable of murder. Not after what he had done for her, giving up his vacation or whatever it had been to help out a stranger.

Hermione ignored the strange feeling in her stomach as she looked at Chev, passing it off as more nausea. "How have you been?" she asked pleasantly.

"Very well," he replied, taking his hat from his head, "I've been doing some traveling, special assignments for my job, so it is really great to be back in London." His constant smile unnerved her. "How have you been? I hear that my congratulations are needed on the return of your husband."

Hermione looked at her feet, not really wanting to talk about her life. "Well," she said, "I've been better." She completely ignored the comment about Draco, hoping that Chev would get the message without her having to say anything about it.

The smile faded from his mouth as he looked at her. "That bad?" he asked quietly, leaning towards Hermione.

Something made Hermione take a small step backwards as she replied, "You have no idea." She smirked at him. "_Get me immediately if you even think you see him,"_ Draco's voice said again. Stupid Draco, she thought, he had no idea what he was talking about. The man before her seemed as far from a murderer as one could be.

"Hermione!" Draco's voice came, barking through the nearly empty streets. She whirled around and saw her husband coming swiftly to her side, his white blond hair giving him a menacing appearance in the dark. His face was hard as he came to her side, the muscles in his jaw tight. He looked at Chev with a look in his eyes that promised trouble, and much to Hermione's chagrin, he put his arm protectively about her waist.

"What is it, Draco?" Hermione snapped, trying to pull herself from his vise like grip.

**XXXXX**

"You forgot your purse," he said quickly, glaring at the man before him, though it was clear that all three of them knew that it was a lie.

Chev had turned into a large man, but Draco could still see the pathetic little boy inside him that he had played with as a child. Then, as now, Draco had an intense desire to wipe that smug look off his face, this time with magic instead of with a fist to the eye as he had all those years ago. "Allin," he remarked coolly, tightening his grip on Hermione's waist as she continued to pull away from him.

"Malfoy," the other man remarked. "Nice to see that you're alive. How did you ever manage?"

"None of your business," he directed to him, then to Hermione, "Come, let's leave. It stinks out here." He tried to move in the opposite direction that Hermione had originally been headed – to discourage Chev from following her – but Hermione wouldn't budge. He gave her a look that he hoped reminded her of everything he had told her about Chev and would allow Draco to take her home, to his house, where he could make sure she would be safe.

"Stop it!" she hissed, digging her fingernails into the flesh of his hand, effectively making him drop his hand. "You're being rude!"

Rude my ass, Draco thought as he looked at his wife incredulously. Need he remind her of all the horrible things Chev had done? Hell, he would spew the killing curse at Chev right now if he wouldn't get into trouble for it. He would turn him in if there was only a ministry official there to take him. He would beat him senseless if Hermione wasn't standing there and enjoy it immensely.

"Stay away from my wife," Draco spat, "if you know what's good for you. Don't think that I don't know what you've done." He took a step closer. "And if Hermione wasn't standing here right now, I'd take care of you once and for all."

"Frightening, Malfoy, really you are. I'm quaking in my boots," Chev commented sarcastically, a devilish smile on his lips.

Draco stared at the man opposite him, not even breaking contact with him when Hermione exclaimed, "Grow up Draco! We were only having a conversation. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I'm going home. Goodnight, Chev. Draco, we will speak about this later." He barely noticed when Hermione turned and walked away, her heels clicking rather obnoxiously on the sidewalk.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing with my _wife!_" Draco spat, drawing his wand, pointing it towards Chev.

"We were merely having a conversation," Chev said, drawing his wand as well. "You know, Malfoy, your wife really is an attractive thing – well besides that hair of hers. You ought to keep a tighter leash on her or someone may come along that actually knows how to treat a woman and she'll forget all about you."

"Stay the fuck away from her," Draco hissed, gripping his wand tighter.

"Why?" he asked with feigned innocence. "Are you afraid that she will realize that she loves screaming my name more than she does yours? I bet she's a whore in the bedroom, isn't she. Will spread her legs for anyone, won't she?" He smirked.

Draco's breathing came in short puffs and fury filled his gut. How dare he speak of his wife like that? "I should have killed you long ago," Draco shouted, "Stupefy!"

Chev blocked the spell easily. "You'll have to do better than that," he said, almost bored.

"Incarcerous!" Draco thundered, sending a rope flying from his wand at Chev, who once again deflected it.

"Honestly!" the other man huffed, "Didn't you learn anything in that school of yours? Stop using mediocre spells. "Confringo!"

Draco dodged the spell as it hit the building beside him, causing a great explosion and a cloud of dust and debris to partly obscure his view of Chev. "Diffindo!" he shouted, smirking as he saw the shirt his opponent was wearing rip open and blood begin to trickle down it. With delight, Draco watched as he looked down at his front. If there was one thing that Draco Malfoy had taken away from his days in Voldemort's innermost circle, it was never to lose focus on the opponent, never let your guard down, because that was when bad things happened.

He seized the opportunity before him. "Sectumsempra!" he hissed, waving his wand wildly at Chev, just as he remembered Scarface doing all those years ago in the bathroom. He watched, content, as he fell to the ground. He stood for a moment, watching as the man grew pale as his life's blood spilled, reveling in the way he had brought the man to his knees, literally. And then, ever so slowly, panic began to take the place of his happiness.

He looked around himself, at the damage that had been caused. The hole in the building was quite large, giving Draco a good view of the brooms it sold, and there were large chunks of rock scattered around a considerable portion of the street. He didn't think that anyone had seen the exchange between them, and he was glad, but that didn't mean that he would not be held accountable for it.

These were not the days of his reckless youth. He could no longer do horrible things and get away with them just because his name was Malfoy and he was a Death Eater. He would be held accountable for his actions, and the punishment would be severe. Fuck! Shit! God damnit!

He was going to go to Azkaban. Murder was just one of those things that they couldn't seem to forgive, even if it was done for the right reasons. But for all that what he had done was horrible, Draco didn't feel bad. He had only done what the Ministry officials hadn't been able to do – rid society of a serial killer that had seemed unstoppable.

Draco felt he deserved an award or something.

Still, others probably would not feel that way. Stupid God damned judgmental society! He would surely be seen as the bad guy, for all his reputation of late. Merlin knew that Hermione would be glad to be rid of him. Even with his trying to be nice to her and remind her of why they loved each other, she still had to rub things in his face! Couldn't she see that he was trying? She of all people should know that it takes more than a few therapy sessions to fix the things that were wrong in his head, because he had been the one to take her when she felt all depressed and shit after the war's end.

So there.

Looking around once more, Draco noted that the streets were completely deserted. He glared at the still form of Chevalier Allin to make sure he wasn't alive. Once positive that he was not going to get up again, Draco Malfoy did something that he knew only the worst of the worst would do; like a Weasley. He hurried over to where the huge opening was blasted in the side of the wall and hopped what was left of it. And he stole a broom, running out as fast as he came in, straddling the thing before kicking off so fast from the ground that he felt a little dizzy.

He needed to get home, to Lucius, and fast. He knew that he would know what to do about the body, about the hole in the store, about the stolen merchandise. From there, he would figure out an alibi and make sure it was rock solid.

And then he would go to Hermione. Someway, somehow he would find a way to make her love him for the murderer and delinquent that he was.

**XXXXX**

A/N: I know it's short; this was a bit of a difficult chapter to write as I am experiencing a bit of writer's block (and I'm preoccupied with the fact that my sister STILL hasn't had her baby even though she's overdue). BOO! But I really wanted to get it out! I hope you enjoyed it.

Coming up in this story… Will Ginny make a return? Will Draco ever find out about his child? What would Hermione do if she knew Draco had killed Chev? Is Lillian Draco's baby?

Thanks for reviewing: **TeamBoyRobotUSA, Egg D, vampiregurl, FlowerChild67, mentarisenja, nature love 95, Sin-and-Smokin, crystalight22, lrmorena** I really appreciate them!

As always, review! I like to know what you think.


	16. Nothing Suspicious

**DISCLAIMER: Hmm. Let's see. I own my car (piece of shit), my education (currently worthless), and a pack of gum (tasty and refreshing, but useless). That is all I can lay claim to. :( **

**Chapter 16: Nothing Suspicious**

Draco put the morning newspaper down with a relieved sigh. "No signs of any loss of life…" the paper read, "more than likely a harmless duel… Damages were minimal. No suspects as of yet." Thank goodness. He had arrived at the Manor in a frenzy the night before, running to his parents' bedroom, throwing the door open so fast that Lucius nearly had a heart attack when he shot out of his bed, pointing his wand – which lay hidden under his pillow – at Draco. His mother had screeched in fright and hid under the blankets, causing Draco in all his trepidation to roll his eyes.

"Father!" he had yelled. Lucius immediately lowered his wand and grabbed for his robe. "Father," Draco repeated, a little more quietly, "I need to talk to you. _Now_. This is of utmost importance regarding…" He trailed off as his mother peeked out from the covers. "I'll be in your office," he added, sending a look in his mother's direction before rushing from the room.

Moments after sitting in one of the plush chairs in his father's office, Lucius shut the door with a prompt click and cast a silencing charm to stop Narcissa from hearing on the other side of the door when she inevitably would make her way there. "What is it?" Lucius asked as he sat, resting his elbows on his desk.

"Father… I've done something horrible," Draco nearly whispered, putting his head in his hands, which were shaking so badly from the adrenaline rush he had experienced earlier that he just as quickly had to look at his father again. Lucius was looking at him with a mixture of boredom and concern, which made his face take on a peculiar expression. "I… I killed someone."

Lucius leaned toward Draco so fast that he was surprised he didn't fall out of the chair he was sitting in. "Who? Where?" he asked calmly, as if talking about the weather.

"In Diagon Alley, Hermione and I were having dinner, and then I got a letter, and Hermione got mad when I wouldn't let her see it so she left. And I followed her out, where I saw her talking to, of all people, Chevalier Allin. I was furious… and we got into it. And… I killed him."

"Did Hermione see any of this happen?"

Draco shook his head. "She left before things got out of hand."

"Good. Where is the body?" Lucius asked.

"I left him in the street. I know I should have taken care of it… but someone might have seen us… I had to get out of there… Father, I need an alibi. I cannot go to prison, not when things with Hermione are so bad." The image of himself going to Azkaban, saying goodbye to his wife and son – his family – forever came to his mind. The look of pure loathing on Hermione's face as his wand was taken from him and he was transported by side-along apparation, in chains, to the island prison. She would never visit him; he wouldn't see his son grow into manhood. He would die in that prison, he was sure of it, and Hermione would go on as if he didn't exist. The thought made his breath hitch.

"Don't worry, Draco," Lucius replied, "I won't let you go to prison. You did the right thing by killing him, not only because he was a murderer and threat to society, but because from the sound of it, he would have interfered with your already perilous marriage. Now, you must destroy the evidence; take a shower, burn the clothes with fiendfyre. I'll take care of Diagon Alley."

It had been one of those moments were Draco was actually glad that his father had used to dabble in the Dark Arts. He was experienced in hiding things, from objects to bodies. He would be able to take care of it. And as much as he considered himself a coward for not being able to take care of it himself, Draco knew that he could trust his father to make things right, if only for his own selfish means.

"Thank you, Father," Draco said, looking at his still shaking hands.

Lucius' hand was on Draco's shoulder suddenly, causing him to look up, startled, at his father's robe clad form that had appeared from behind his desk like a phantom, his hair mussed from sleep. He was looking out the darkened window as he said, "Draco, you are my son. And though I don't necessarily approve of all the decisions you have made, I will support you and do everything I can to ensure that you are not harmed in the process. I want you to be successful in life; don't make the same mistakes I did."

Draco shut his eyes for a moment, willing the stinging sensation he felt to go away. Those words were about the closest thing to an "I love you and I don't think you are a complete idiot" he probably would ever hear from the man he called his father. The hand on his shoulder like all the hugs he never got. Why did he have to choose this moment to divulge his feelings, when Lucius clearly could see that Draco was in no state of mind to deal with it? He couldn't even speak due to the sudden lump in his throat that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he swallowed.

So he merely nodded his head. Merlin, but his life was fucked up.

After his father assured everything would be taken care of again, Draco went to his room, blatantly ignoring his mother – who had indeed been trying to listen at the door – and took a shower, put his clothes into the fireplace and watched them burn into oblivion. And when he finally fell into bed, his sleep was riddled with nightmares of his parents crumpling at his feet, Hermione and Lucas there too, crying blood tears before falling dead too. And Chevalier Allin was there, his face and body horribly disfigured, his mangled hand guiding Draco's wand as he was forced to mutilate the bodies of his wife and son.

When he woke he was covered in sweat and tears. For a time, he could only sit in the bed, his head in his hands as his whole body nearly convulsed with the force of his shaking. He could still see them – his family – thrashing around on the floor of his dream, their dead eyes staring directly at him just as Chev's seemed to stare unblinkingly at the sky. He ran to the bathroom and lost meager contents of his stomach.

He was fairly certain that he needed about a dozen drinks of something stronger than orange juice with his breakfast. Just to make the pain go away, numb his mind for a while… just a little bit so he could get the thought of Chev dead in a pool of his own blood and those images of Hermione and Lucas' fiendish faces as they lie dead before him. But he promised Hermione he wouldn't, or at least not as much as he used to.

Well that was a hell of a lot easier to say than do.

One small drink wouldn't hurt anything, right? No, he decided, it would help him cope with all that was going on, calm him down a little bit.

Draco got dressed and went down to the dining room, where the house elves had left an assortment of food and beverages for his parents and him to eat. The thought of eating – in light of what he'd done yet again, after he swore he would never kill again when he escaped from the people who took him hostage – made him feel sick. How could he possibly sit down and eat when all he could see was the body of Chev in the street? And the blood – of God, the blood!

He bypassed the table in favor of the cabinet where all the expensive alcohol was kept. Opening it, he surveyed the contents, choosing a malt whiskey and taking it to the table where the morning paper sat. The front page was covered with a picture of the building that had had a hole blasted into it the night before, along with a few witches and wizards surveying the damage. In the process of reading the rather long article that followed, Draco managed to have a drink and a half before even realizing he had.

The blessed warmth and fuzziness that always accompanied his drinking seeped slowly into his bones, making Draco feel much better; so much so that he felt compelled to take a piece of toast and sausage, along with an orange. Into the cup of coffee before him, he poured a generous amount of whiskey and began eating. Maybe things wouldn't turn out so badly after all.

He looked up for a moment when his father came in, looking exhausted, before concentrating on his plate. He felt awkward after what his father said the night before, and from the silence of Lucius, he must've felt the same way. For a time, the only noise was the rustle of the paper as Lucius looked at it and the scraping of forks on plates. When Lucius finally spoke, it was from behind the newspaper.

"Draco, you are certain that the body was in the street?"

Draco looked at the newspaper wall that separated him from his father, the food in his stomach churning as all the gory images filled his head yet again. "Yes, why?" he asked nervously. He was one hundred percent certain that that was where it was.

"I found no body, Draco," Lucius said calmly as he set the paper down and looked at his son.

Draco dropped his fork, looking at his father incredulously. "What?" he hissed, "That is impossible! I know he was there! I _know_ I killed him!"

Lucius sighed. "I checked the entirety of Diagon Alley and found nothing, save for the rather large hole in the side of that building. There was no body. There was not even any blood. You made sure he was dead before leaving, didn't you?"

"Yes!" Draco exclaimed. He had made sure he hadn't been breathing, had saw with his own eyes that there was no rise and fall of his chest! Chev was dead. Wasn't he? Draco's breathing increased, coming to him in shallow bursts. He had never actually checked for a pulse before making a break for it. Fuck!

He threw his coffee cup at the wall before taking the whiskey and drinking it straight from the bottle.

**XXXXX**

It began with a single red rose at her front door.

Then a box of exquisite chocolates was delivered to her at work.

The next day two dozen roses appeared next to her bed when she woke up.

And then, much to her embarrassment, a singing quartet serenaded her as she got coffee at the café on her lunch break the next week, presenting her in the end with a thin black velvet box that contained a diamond bracelet and earrings.

It was horrifying, to say the least, and Hermione wished a plague on Draco for embarrassing her like that. Flowers and jewelry and chocolate may have worked on teenage girls, but Draco would have to do better than that to make her even _think _of forgiving him for the stunt he pulled at the restaurant nearly two weeks earlier. He had blatantly made a mockery of her as she left him sitting there, yelling insults in her direction. She could still feel all the eyes of the people there on her, staring, whispering things. She just knew that the instant the door snapped shut behind her they had exploded with the juicy new gossip.

And the stunt he tried to pull with Chev! Of course, Hermione hadn't planned on running into him obviously, she had never imagined that she would see him again after he helped her out a few months ago… but Draco had acted as if she was about to run off with him! The way he had put his arm around her like a clamp, spoke about her as if she was his property, as if she wasn't even there!

Oh, how she would love to have slapped him across the face and remind him that she was not a weak and sensitive corset-clad woman of one hundred years ago; but a strong and independent woman capable of using her brain!

Hermione opened the drawer to her bedside table and glared at the long black box. Gah, jewelry! Hermione didn't even really like jewelry… if Draco really did love her – Merlin knew he claimed it enough – and knew her better than anyone else did, he should have known that she would've much rather preferred a good book or a simple gold chain if it must be jewelry. And that was what bothered her. Aside from the ridiculous sized engagement and wedding ring, Draco hadn't gotten her anything more elaborate than a necklace with a small sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds in the entire time they had been married. Had he really forgotten so much about her?

Apparently so.

Then again, she seemed to have forgotten some things about Draco, like the fact that he had a very possessive demeanor.

Doctor Hutchens had tried to explain that Draco's need to be constantly aware of what Hermione was doing as the fact that he was worried that if he wasn't there something bad would happen; the reason he was so utterly possessive due to the fact that he was still experiencing the after effects of his traumatic past. But that didn't explain why Draco was such an ass to her, Hermione had insisted.

Doctor Hutchens had passed it off as Draco being angry with her, even if he wouldn't admit it. "Mrs. Malfoy, you can't expect Draco to be pleasant to you when you refuse to be nice to him." Hermione had rolled her eyes. "Have you ever heard of the Golden Rule?"

Well of course she knew what the damned Golden Rule was! She wasn't a caveman! In her opinion, Draco didn't deserve her sympathy and flowers, chocolates and jewelry wouldn't make her see otherwise.

Besides, since that fateful night two weeks before, she had seen neither hide nor hair of Draco Malfoy. It was as if he was afraid of what she would do to him if she saw him; and he should be. The next time he decided to show his face, Hermione had a hankering to tell him just where he could shove his gifts. He hadn't even had the balls to sign a card to go with the gifts… they only read "From Your Secret Admirer". As if she didn't know!

If he wasn't man enough to even sign a card, let alone talk to her to her face about what he did, how could Hermione expect him to be man enough to take care of Lucas and the new baby?

Her hand unconsciously went to her abdomen, which was beginning to get larger. She was thankful that it only looked like she had gained some weight at this point, but she knew that in no time at all she would look – in her opinion – like a beached whale. Then she would have to acknowledge the fact that she was pregnant with the entire world, and with the man she currently despised. Hermione was frightened of what Draco would say to her; he would be angry that she didn't tell him no doubt.

The thought made her feel sick.

The therapist had suggested that she tell him as soon as possible because it could be used as something to help heal their relationship. To Hermione, it would only cause an even bigger rift between them.

More than anything, Hermione needed time to think about the problems between herself and Draco, think about ways to fix them, or a way to tell Draco they needed to go their separate ways. She needed to be alone for a while, a week maybe, or two, just to be able to think about what she really wanted from her relationship with her husband.

But how was she to go about that when she had a child to look after, a best friend who hadn't left his wife's side in weeks and a child who he hadn't even been able to hold yet, an emotionally and physically draining job, as well as a husband who was nearly choking the will out of her? She needed a vacation, just by herself, to get her thoughts together.

One, maybe two weeks, and then she would have to make a decision once and for all. It was all becoming too much for her to handle, the mood swings, the arguing, and the pain. She needed to get a hold of her life, to focus on herself and her children before she considered anything else.

Then, and only then, would she be able to know whether she was strong enough to handle what would happen if she truly let Draco back into her life… and heart.

**XXXXX**

Harry Potter stood outside the glass surrounded room where the babies were held, watching his impossibly small daughter sleep in her crib, which was surrounded by a protective bubble. Harry spent his time either by Ginny's side praying she get better; or outside the glass where Lillian was, watching as she slept or tried to move her impossibly small limbs.

It felt as if he had been in the hospital for an eternity, but he could not bring himself to leave, not even to see his friends or family. Molly or Arthur often brought James by to see him, Ginny, and the baby, but the visits were all too brief as James was not allowed to stay with Harry. His whole family seemed to be falling apart, and it felt like it was his fault.

If he hadn't have stayed a little later at work that night, maybe he would have gotten home in time to get Ginny to the hospital and prevent the premature birth of his daughter and consequent hysterectomy of his wife. If he hadn't have wanted to talk to Ginny about his suspicions, maybe he wouldn't have been so hard on her in the days before the incident, and maybe she wouldn't have gone into labor. His mind was plagued with the thoughts of things he could've and should've done differently.

Lillian had been born nearly three months premature. She shouldn't have been born for another month and a half yet. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was still alive; the doctors had said as much. They had said that she was making great strides in the right direction and were confident that she was going to pull through, though Harry knew that nothing was set in stone. Things could change in an instant.

It was at that moment that Healer Geronn, who had been monitoring Ginny and the baby since their arrival, came to stand beside Harry, a smile on his face. "I have some good news, Harry."

"Yes?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"Your wife is sufficiently healed enough for us to bring her out of the coma. She should wake up in the next day or two, but let me assure you, this will not be the end of her healing…"

Harry was sure that his mouth was going to split in two with the ferocity of his smile, and forgetting his manliness, he hugged the doctor before rushing to Ginny's room. Things were looking up; they would be alright, everything would be alright.

Who cared what she had done in the past? What mattered was that she was alive; she was going to be alright. They could make it through anything, he was sure of it.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Thanks everybody for being so patient with me! There was a family emergency in August, and school this semester has been kicking my butt. But on a happier note, I'm now an aunt! (:

Anyway, thank you so much to those of you who took the time to review! **Linux-Ginny, vampiregurl, lrmorena, xo4Kisses-Dixo, OBLuvr13, sammy sosa the 13th, Sin-and-Smokin, Egg D, , CheshireCat23, 1Purple-monkey-dishwasher8, IlleanaKatrina, Minato's girl** You guys are the best!

As always, please review! I like to know what you think.


	17. Ain't That A Kick in the Head?

**DISCLAIMER: I'll own Harry Potter, as my dad liked to tell me when I was a child and wanted something stupid, "when Hell freezes over". With all this global warming stuff, I don't stand a chance.**

**Chapter 17: Ain't That A Kick in the Head?**

Hermione stood in front of the mirror inspecting her abdomen from the side. It was becoming quite obvious that she was not just gaining some weight. Finally being able to think of and eat food with only minimal feelings of queasiness left her with a famished appetite, and she found nearly everything around her delectable. As a result of that, she had gotten her figure back and then some. It wasn't as if she was huge, and God knew she would be soon enough, but she felt conspicuous.

And she just knew that if she saw Draco he would figure it out right away.

She had done a very good job of avoiding him since their failed date. For nearly a month, she had purposely scheduled her appointments with Dr. Hutchens on a different day than Draco's, and whenever Draco owled to ask to see Lucas, she made up an excuse not to let him go. Lucas, of course, knew that there was going to be another baby, and being a small child he would surely tell his father all about Hermione's growing belly.

At her last appointment with Dr. Lansky, she had been presented with an image of the baby looking like it was waving. It had moved her to tears – which weren't too difficult to achieve – and she had strongly debated about whether to send it to Draco. After all he did have a right to know, but she decided against it, hanging it on her refrigerator instead. Dr. Lansky had said that she could find out the sex of the baby now, but Hermione decided that she didn't want to know. She rather liked the idea of it being a mystery.

Dr. Hutchens liked the idea too, saying that with all the bad things happening there was something she could look forward to when she gave birth to the child. The only problem he still had was the fact that she had not told Draco about it. Well, he would find out soon enough…

The ridiculously old judge had returned from his extended vacation two or three weeks earlier and he was eager to see Draco and Hermione's nonexistent progress. The "meeting" was set for that afternoon, and after speaking with Blaise she found out that there was no way she could make an excuse not to go. The judge would take that as her not being serious about her son or her marriage. Well… her son anyway. She could care less about the marriage at this point in time; that was what her week away was going to be devoted to… deciding what she really wanted from the shambles of her marriage.

Lucas was going to spend the week with Hermione's parents while she travelled to her their summer house on the island of Crete in the Mediterranean. While she hated leaving her family and friends, she looked forward to getting away from the chilly late November weather and into sun. To think, she reminded herself, about her predicament. Ugh. Sighing, Hermione turned away from her mirror and went to her closet to find something to wear to the dreaded meeting. Nothing in her closet would hide the swelling of her abdomen, nothing.

Wonderful. Just freaking peachy. Black slacks and a rather large lavender cashmere sweater muted her condition only slightly. Maybe she would just keep her coat on, she thought as she slipped her black high heels on.

She looked towards the bed where her suitcases lay open, the clothes inside folded neatly. Her eye was caught by the silky smooth pink fabric of the nightie on top. It was one of the many presents from her husband that had been accumulating in an unorganized pile in the corner of her room. The dozens of roses sent to her nearly every day were banished to the rubbish bin, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to throw away the other gifts she had been sent. She hated to admit that she rather liked the nightie she had received only a few days earlier; after altering it to make it a little bigger, she had worn it to bed and found that she loved the way it felt against her skin, especially on the tight skin of her abdomen.

Along with the nightie, she had received a nearly see-through black robe to go over it, a pair of fuzzy slippers, a silver mirror and brush set, earrings made with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires, along with necklaces, rings, and a few pairs of gorgeous high heels. They all sat glaring at her from the ever growing pile of unwanted gifts. She still couldn't quite figure out just what Draco was trying to prove with all the gifts… it certainly wasn't helping him get back into her good graces.

Hermione sighed again, running her fingers over the silky pink fabric. The feeling of it brought back memories of the day she and Draco had married, the way her dress had felt soft against her skin, the way Draco had looked at her as they became husband and wife, how tightly he gripped her hands as their magic was bonded together.

She could still remember the surge of happiness she had felt as they sealed their marriage with an achingly sweet kiss, and how they walked hand in hand down the aisle to the cheers of their guests like the king and queen of their world. At that moment, she was sure that she had made the right decision in marrying Draco Malfoy; positive that they could make it through anything, _anything_.

They had been young… so very young and naïve - so blind to the world's cruelties and harsh reality. They hadn't cared about anyone or anything but themselves and their new life together. They had been oblivious to everyone around them as they danced in slow circles to the music of a band neither one knew, oblivious of ruining the organized papers and files on Draco's father's desk they had shoved off in favor of using the surface to make love during what should have been their wedding dinner. She was so focused on herself that she hadn't even thanked the house elf who had helped her out of her dress, undoing the hundreds of tiny buttons on the back, and into the pink silk lingerie that was literally ripped from her person minutes later.

If only they could have never left that wonderful and perfect world. If only they could have continued to live in their isolated little universe, the only inhabitants being themselves. But time had a way of changing things, forcing them to face reality. When Draco got a job at the Ministry of Magic he began working long hours to find rogue Death Eaters, leaving him tired and irritable. Hermione too became busy, trying to finish her schooling to before Lucas was born.

Whenever together, they almost always ended up fighting about this or that; like Draco insisting that Hermione stay home and raise their child instead of working, or Hermione wanting to move out of Draco's foreboding house to be closer to her parents.

Even back then, she realized as she shut her suitcase with a little slam, she should have seen that there were some fundamental cracks in their relationship.

Shrinking the suitcases, Hermione placed them in her purse. There was no use getting all worked up now when she would have the entire week to think about everything. Getting her warm wool coat from her closet and draping it over her arm, she went to Luke's room to pack a bag for him while he was at her parent's.

**XXXXX**

Despite all his trying, Draco Malfoy hadn't seen his wife in nearly a month. Whenever he went by her house – checking to make sure nothing out of the ordinary was going on – there was no sign that she was at home. When he owled her to see his son, she always claimed that he was ill or had a play date or was with her parents.

He knew she was angry with him about what he had done on their date, but she had to understand that he had had a good reason to be so possessive when Chev had been so near to her… and he didn't want to tell her about his suspicions with Ginny Potter's baby. He didn't want to put even more fuel on the fire, so to speak, if he could help it.

Since the results of the paternity test had come back inconclusive, Draco had been searching for answers as to why. How was it possible? It wasn't as if it took a genius to figure out how a baby was made, and that there was only one possible father to said baby.

He had devoted much of his time to trying to figure out what could have possibly happened, scouring the family library for any possible spell or potion to explain why or how something so ridiculous could happen. He had found some rather interesting instances of humans interbreeding with mermaids and other seemingly incompatible creatures, resulting in monstrous little demons that were often rejected by even the wizarding world and who were usually killed by being burnt at the stake by Muggles. Those instances were the only ones that he could find that remotely resembled his situation, and they had virtually stopped sometime in the late 1500s when interacting physically with other species was made illegal.

But never, in all the strange procreating instances he found, was it impossible to figure out who the father was. Shit. He had no idea what to do.

And on top of the baby debacle, Draco had an unaccounted body to worry about. Since that ill-fated night weeks before, he had heard neither hide nor hair of Chevalier Allin. Lucius had left mere hours after telling Draco that there was no body to try and find him. If Chev was still alive, and Draco had a very bad feeling that he was, he would no doubt be furious about what had happened to him and there was no telling what he might do. He could go after Narcissa and Lucius, Draco himself, or even Hermione and Lucas. It was unclear; the man was completely insane.

Draco just hoped he was dead.

He shut his eyes for only a moment, trying to shut out the ever persistent images of Chev's blood covered form lying in the street. The pleasant weight of the flask in his suit pocket beckoned him; the urge to take it out and drink the entirety of it was nearly overwhelming. He resisted, instead rubbing his now clammy hands up and down his dark slacks. He would not be able to suppress the horror he felt with alcohol today.

He was to fight, yet again, for the ability to see his own child; his flesh and blood. He dreaded what the elderly judge would say to them… last time the bloody bastard had laughed at them. Laughed! Like their problems were the most hilarious thing he had ever heard. And then… then he had practically insulted Hermione! And that was before he even really knew any of their major issues. He could only imagine what was going to happen.

The elder Mr. Chalmers sent a sympathetic look in Draco's direction as the door to the dreary room that served as their court room opened with a slight creek. His stomach did a flip as he watched his best friend Blaise Zabini walk in looking serious with his briefcase and three piece suit. Closely behind him was Hermione, clutching her coat close to her person as her shoes clicked happily towards where she and Blaise would be sitting. He took note of how she avoided his gaze at all costs, how she allowed her unruly curls to hide her face from him. But at least she looked like she was a little healthier; her skin was not as pale as it had been, and her cheeks no longer looked sunken in.

She was flourishing without him.

Draco felt his spirits sink lower.

The room was filled with an awkward silence that seemed to press down on them, adding to the tense atmosphere. It was only broken by the murmured conversation between his wife and friend, and that too was stopped when the ancient judge barged into the room much in the manner he had the first time, only now he was hacking up what sounded to be his lung.

Draco tried not to be disgusted as the man continued to hack and cough his way to his seat, which he fell into with a huge wheeze that sounded much like the air being let out of a Muggle tire. It wasn't his matter to deal with, and he figured that if the judge saw Draco's look of displeasure he would probably side with Hermione in whatever this session was going to be about. "Alright," the man said hoarsely, conjuring a glass of water, "let's get this over with."

Draco blanked out through the opening proceedings, leaving the work to his lawyers as he tried to see what Hermione was doing. Having moved her hair out of her face, Draco was granted a view of her profile. She looked strained, staring at Blaise as he spoke on her behalf, almost as if she was frightened about something… and she still wore her coat despite the fact that the room was rather toasty.

Maybe she was running a fever?

As if reading Draco's mind, the judge snapped suddenly, "Mrs. Malfoy, were you planning on going somewhere in the next few minutes?"

Draco watched as she shook her head and practically whispered, "No." She clutched her coat closer to herself.

"Then kindly remove your coat while in my courtroom," he returned, motioning for the lawyers to continue speaking. Hermione sent a worried look in Draco's direction as she stood and unbuttoned her coat. Draco tried to mask his frown, quite unsuccessfully. It seemed to take hours for her to undo the four buttons that held her coat together. Then she seemed to fight a little battle in her head before she took a deep breath and removed the garment, as if it was the only article of clothing she was wearing.

He saw the small quiver of her chin as she quickly sat down.

Strange, he thought, very strange.

"So," the judge rasped, effectively drawing Draco back into his surroundings, "according to the report issued by your therapist, Dr. Hutchens, you have had one joint counseling session and weekly individual meetings for the past two months." He flipped through a stack of papers before him, his expression darkening. "I see that despite all the efforts made there has been little success in resolving your problems… if only, therapy seems to be making things worse between you two."

From the corner of his eye, Draco saw Hermione nod. Therapy had been her brilliant idea in the first place! He knew it wouldn't work… it never did.

"Interesting. And I see you have attempted have an evening out as a couple? How did that go?" He bored holes in Draco's head with his gaze.

"It started out well enough," Draco said slowly. He didn't feel very comfortable speaking about his life as if it were a dime store novel. It would lead to what happened after… what he had done to Chev. "But over dinner we got into an argument and things just kind of fell apart."

"How so?" the judge asked.

"Hermione was ill and I was concerned for her health," he found himself spewing forth, "so I asked her what was wrong, and she refused to tell me. There was an argument, and she left."

"You are such a liar, Draco Malfoy," Hermione spat, looking over at him. "You not only had a waitress come into the bathroom to spy on me, but when I got back, you didn't ask, you demanded I tell you what was going on with me, even going so far as to accuse me of having an eating disorder! You refused to answer me when I only wanted to know what that paper said… And as if it wasn't bad enough that you began yelling, you followed me out of that place and into the street where you made a fool out of yourself because of some petty childhood issue."

"Well forgive me for being concerned about you!" Draco yelled, causing Hermione to jump. "Forgive me for wanting to make sure you're safe! Do you really feel like I don't have your best interests in mind when I do things like this? Christ, Hermione, you were an arm's length away from a man who has killed not once, but multiple times! Did you really think that I would allow you to be alone with him?"

"Chev has never been anything but kind to me, Draco. He has never once given me the impression that he wanted to harm me, unlike you," she said quietly. Having said that she turned herself away from him.

A fury of such magnitude coursed throughout Draco Malfoy then, anger which he hadn't felt the like of since the war. His whole body shook as he stood from his chair, causing it to clatter to the floor, staring unblinking at his wife. His hands unconsciously balled into fists. His face felt hot as he stared at Hermione. How dare she think that he would hurt her? For crying out loud, he had cared enough about her to _marry_ her hadn't he? He loved her! He loved her so much that he had a child with her! Didn't that count for anything?

He took a deep breath to calm down a little; it didn't work. "How can you say that I want to bring you any harm?" he asked slowly, thinking about each word before saying it. "I have done _nothing_ but try to protect you from being hurt from the _moment_ I realized I wanted to be with you forever. I did my damndest to apprehend those monsters who wanted to kill you because of your blood, and nearly lost my own life in the process. In the entire time we have been married, I never once lifted so much as a finger in your direction.

"How, exactly, have I wanted to harm you?"

Hermione looked upon him with what appeared to be pity. "Draco, there are more ways of hurting a person than just physically. Sometimes words can do more damage than hitting and cursing could ever do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"The things you say, Draco, the things that come spewing forth from your mouth hurt. They hurt me, Draco, and I don't think you even realize it." With that, Hermione once again directed her attention elsewhere.

Draco remained frozen where he was, his posture giving off a furious appearance while inside shock seized him, refusing to let him even think.

Somewhere in the distance, the judge cleared his throat again. "Please have a seat, Mr. Malfoy," he said in a boring tone.

Draco blinked furiously for a few moments, trying to regain his aloof composure without much success. With his brow furrowed, he watched as the younger Mr. Chalmers righted the chair he had knocked over, and he numbly sank into it. He stared blankly at the judge as the old man coughed harshly and took a large drink of water. "Now," he rasped, "who is this Chev character who has you two so upset?"

"Chevalier Allin," Hermione supplied, "Draco seems to think that he has murdered several people. I first met him a few months ago, and he helped me get through a very difficult time. I never once got the inclination that he was not anything but gentlemanly."

Draco came to his senses enough to supply, "Yes, darling, but gentlemen can kill too. Looks can be deceiving."

The judge nodded. "I'm afraid your husband is right, Mrs. Malfoy. Chevalier Allin is wanted in several countries for murder and rapes. It would be most helpful if you could give us any information about him after this session is over. And please, if you see him again, summon Aurors immediately."

Draco watched as his wife's mouth gaped open while she stared at the judge. Even in all his trepidation and anger, Draco smirked, giving her an 'I told you so' look. Hermione nodded furiously, her unruly curls bouncing all over the place.

"On that happy note -" Draco snorted at the sarcasm "- let us continue. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, due to your lack of communication with one another, I must ask you to continue to attend weekly counseling sessions… together. And, since this Chevalier Allin knows who you are, and possibly where you live, Mrs. Malfoy -"

"He does!" interjected Draco. The judge gave him a look; Draco shrugged.

"As I was saying, because this man possibly knows where you live, I must ask that you and your child leave immediately to a safer location, preferably one with magical protection."

"_What?"_ Hermione snapped, getting to her feet this time. "You cannot be serious. That is my house, and I will not be forced to abandon it because _he_," she pointed a finger at Draco, "is frightened. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself _and_ my child. Have you forgotten that I helped take down the darkest wizard that ever lived?"

"Yes, we are all quite aware of your accomplishments, Mrs. Malfoy. But in your present condition…"

Draco frowned. What condition was the old man talking about? Hermione looked perfectly healthy to him, he thought. Her hair was the same. Her cheeks were rosy and full, and the way her mouth was moving, she obviously hadn't lost her voice and temper. Her shoulders didn't appear to be bony. Her breasts, well… they looked absolutely perfect, like always. Her stomach was nicely rounded, she was obviously eating well, and her legs were – Draco's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he took in the appearance of his wife's abdomen.

And then it clicked. The vomiting. The irritability, the crying. All the avoiding, the excuses. His heart rate accelerated, his mouth went dry; his eyesight seemed to be glued on Hermione's midriff. Sweat erupted on his forehead and upper lip; he struggled very hard to remain upright.

"_You're pregnant!"_

His yell echoed through the chamber, causing Hermione to stop mid-tantrum. He could see her breathing heavily, her gaze stuck on the judge's face. Her hands went to her abdomen, and she wrapped her arms around it as if to hide it from view, to no avail. She looked down at herself, arms still trying to hide it, and then locked eyes with Draco. "It appears that way, doesn't it?" With that, she sat back down in her chair, anger apparently gone.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco demanded, putting his head in his hands. "When – how is this possible?"

Before Hermione could answer, the judge again interrupted. "Well, seeing as you two have much to talk about, lets wrap this up, shall we? Mrs. Malfoy, as it is no longer safe for you to remain in your home, you will be placed into one of the Ministry's safe houses, established during the war."

"She can stay with me," Draco suggested. He could barely hear himself talking; he certainly wasn't thinking. The words were just coming out of his mouth as if it had a mind of its own. "My family's home is protected by ancient magic. No one is allowed past the front gates unless they've been given permission by someone within… Hermione and Lucas and, and the baby… will be safe there."

"Very well. Mrs. Malfoy, you are to stay at Malfoy Manor until the criminal is caught. You will move in today."

"I'm sorry I can't," Hermione said quietly.

Draco sighed. Ever the stubborn one was Hermione. "What do you mean, 'you can't'?" he asked.

"You see, I had a trip planned for myself, for this week," she spoke to the judge, not Draco. "And I can't very well back out of it; the tickets are non-refundable. After that," she paused and looked directly at Draco, "I'll move into Malfoy Manor."

"Alright," the judge said, waving his hand in dismissal, "I'll notify you of when we'll meet next." And with that, the man got up and hurried out of the room. His hacking could be heard as he disappeared down the hallway.

He ignored his lawyers when they tried to speak to him, getting out of his chair and walking towards Hermione. She was talking with Blaise the traitor – why hadn't he told Draco? – and he waited patiently as could be expected from a man who just found out he was going to be a father again as they finished their conversation. Before leaving them alone, Draco watched his best friend give his wife a hug, which she returned readily.

It made him feel jealous. He was jealous that the woman who was supposed to be his so freely showed emotion to other people, but not to him, her husband. He ignored Zabini's sympathetic look, instead focusing on Hermione, who quickly began putting on her coat. "Hermione," he said quietly. She ignored him, buttoning the garment, hiding once again her swollen abdomen. He grabbed her wrist gently as she reached to get her purse. "Hermione, we need to talk about this."

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Draco, not now," was all she said, trying to free herself. He relented, not wanting to hurt her, letting go of her small wrist and watching as she grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and began walking towards the door.

He almost let her leave, almost let her go without an explanation. "Please." The word was painful and strained. Hermione paused, turned and looked at him. He couldn't exactly explain why he wanted to know, maybe he just needed clarification. "When did… when was this baby conceived?" Maybe he was worried that the same thing that happened with Potter's wife had happened to Hermione too… maybe he wanted to convince himself that the baby had been conceived out of love, that she hadn't somehow taken advantage of him too.

Hermione's expression was far off as she answered, "The day I found out you were alive."

Draco nodded, remembering that day, how she looked at him so unbelievingly, touched his body as if to reassure herself it was really him. He had done the same, hardly believing his eyes that she was there with him; his Hermione. "How far along are you?"

"Five months this Saturday," she supplied, her right hand rubbing small circles on her middle. Draco didn't think she realized she was doing it. He did the calculations in his head; the baby would come near the end of March. That was only four months away. Four months and then there would be another person who was completely dependent on him for care, protection.

He took a deep breath. It wouldn't be too difficult, right? Right. He cleared his throat, trying to get the lump that had formed to go away. "Well," he managed to sputter, "I won't keep you from your trip. When will you be back?"

"Friday evening," Hermione said. "Would you please come over Saturday morning? I have quite a few things that will need to be packed before I move… in with you."

"Of course," Draco exclaimed. "I hope – I hope you enjoy your trip, Hermione." At that, Hermione finally met his gaze and attempted a smile.

"I'm sure I will," she replied, making a point to look at the watch on her arm. "Well, I have to get going, I have a flight to catch."

"Sure," Draco said, "see you on Saturday."

"Yes, Saturday," Hermione echoed, opening the door. "Goodbye, Draco."

"Bye." She was about to shut the door. Then he remembered he forgot to say something to her. "Hermione!" She turned towards him, her hand still on the knob. "Please be careful… I don't want anything to happen to you or our baby."

That same ghost of a smile passed her features as she said, "I will," before walking away.

Draco, alone in the room, sat in the nearest chair trying very hard not to sob like a child. Hermione was coming to live with him, she was coming home! In that brief meeting, the judge had been able to accomplish more than Draco had in nearly half a year. He would be able to see her every day, see his Lucas every day, and eventually the new baby.

Somewhere inside him, a little voice warned him not to squander the opportunity that had been presented to him.

And with everything in him Draco Malfoy swore that he would never again waste any time with Hermione, with his children. He would show her that he wanted to be a part of their lives and he a part of theirs. He would show them they could be a family, and a happy loving one at that.

His family.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Hello all! I know it's been a long time. Please see previous chapters and stories for the pathetic excuses of as to why. I really just don't have time to update often, and I hope you can forgive me. Anyway, this is my longest chapter **EVER**! I'm super impressed with myself. (:

Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! **SAVAGEGRACEx, xo4Kisses-Dixo, vampiregurl, OBLuvr13, CheshireCat23, lrmorena, Sin-and-Smokin, ria-bee, lunathevamp, Prongsfan, dramioneluver13 **They are appreciated!

As always, feel free to review! I'd like to know what you think.


	18. Timing is Everything

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my plot… my plot to steal Harry Potter. MUAHAHAHAHA!**

**Chapter 18: Timing Is Everything**

_It was never for the mean;  
It requireth courage stout.  
Souls above doubt,  
Valor unbending,  
It will reward,-  
They shall return  
More than they were,  
And ever ascending._ - Ralph Waldo Emerson, _Give All to Love_

**WARNING: This chapter contains very adult content which may be disturbing to some. Please read with discretion.**

The sun had set by the time Hermione got back to her house. Her week away had done little to bring her to a decision about her marriage; if anything, it only made her more confused. Her memories of her husband were few and far between; those she was able to recall clearly were completely bipolar. The good ones made her long to forget everything that had happened and just be with Draco. The bad memories angered her so much that she wanted to hex him into next week.

Horrifyingly mean fights dominated her memory. The words they said to one another had been meant to cut deep, to deliberately hurt the other's feelings. About the stupidest things, from what flowers to plant in the garden to the food served at a party, they would escalate from a simple discussion to yelling and oftentimes objects being thrown by Hermione. They would revert back to their school days, insulting bloodlines, using their surnames, picking sides all over again. They would attack various choices that had been made during the war. Point out each other's faults, their mental and physical shortcomings.

Always, there would be tears, threats of leaving. Always, they would avoid one another for days after, staying on separate sides of the house until for one reason or another they were forced to interact. And always they would end up in each other's arms apologizing over and over, making up.

And then there were the times that reminded Hermione of why she fell in love with him. Small gestures of kindness and romance; bringing her breakfast in bed, taking care of her when she was sick. His soothing voice filling her ears when he comforted her after a nightmare. Whisking her away for a picnic; a surprise trip to a vacation home on the beautiful island of Crete he had bought especially for her. Even the way he looked at her, the way he held her in his arms after they made love.

And there was no denying that no matter what horrible atrocities that man committed, Hermione still loved him. He was the father of her children, and because of that she would always have a place in her heart for him.

She just didn't know if her heart was willing to really love him in the way she had thought she always would.

And so, as Hermione spent the week sunning herself and feeling her child move within her, her mind was no clearer than it had been when she left.

She sighed as she unlocked the front door of her house, pausing for a moment to listen to the night. The late November air had a bite to it, and a light breeze rattled the dead and dying leaves of the trees. Somewhere a bird called its goodnight song. In the distance, the sounds of Muggle London could be heard like the hum of an engine. Though Malfoy Manor would have the sound of the wind and birds, Hermione knew she would miss the sounds of civilization. She didn't know why, but she felt like she was going to step back one hundred years in time living with Draco.

Breathing in the chilly air, Hermione went inside.

Something felt off.

She quickly looked around the front room, searching for anything amiss. Even in the darkness, she could see that nothing was different. Everything was exactly as she left it.

Just nerves, she decided. She was only nervous about what would happen tomorrow, and reluctant to spend the night by herself. She had rarely spent any time without Lucas in the entire time he'd been alive, let alone an entire week.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her experiences during the war told her not to ignore the feeling; nine times out of ten, her instincts were right.

A flick of her wand ignited all the lights in sight. She knew she was being ridiculous. There was nothing to be worried about! Still, for her sanity, Hermione searched the room, looking behind furniture and under tables, even going so far as to look in the fireplace. She repeated the process in all the rooms downstairs, pausing to make a sandwich for herself before going upstairs.

She entered her room.

She nearly choked on her sandwich.

"Hello love," he said cheerfully, "did you have a nice trip?"

**XXXXX**

The week went by in the blink of an eye. For Draco, everything was a colorful blur filled with muted noises, passing him by as he stood motionless, too stunned by everything to think clearly.

The house elves were feverishly getting ready for their young mistress to arrive. His mother was having a fit of excitement about having Lucas around all the time again and getting another grandchild. She had taken the news much better than Draco had… She had already begun preparing a room for the baby, accepting the striking news as if talking about the weather.

Draco had wandered about the house for a few days, not talking to anyone. His mind was full to exploding with thoughts, worries about Hermione and the children. How could he not have noticed that she was pregnant? He had seen her get sick. She avoided him like the plague. She was emotional. Then again, to his defense, she could have very well done those things had she not been pregnant.

How would she react to staying with him? Would she demand separate rooms? Obviously. Would she continue to treat him as the devil? Yes. Could she ever possibly forgive him? Doubtful. She would probably take every measure to painstakingly remind him of the things he had done wrong.

Besides, Hermione scared the shit out of him.

She seemed to love scrutinizing every single thing he did, picking out the worst characteristics. As a result, he was terrified that he would do something that would throw him from her life forever. He knew he couldn't handle that, given the way he reacted to receiving the papers that could potentially take Lucas from his life.

He _needed _Hermione in his life. He would do what it took to keep her there.

Once realizing that, Draco personally readied two rooms of the manor for his wife, hoping that even if she hated him she would get some enjoyment from her stay.

The library was the easiest to take care of. Remembering her say once that she wished there was more of a variety of books; Draco ventured into Muggle London and caused a shopkeeper to faint when he bought one of every single book in the store. He replaced the rigid seating in the library with chairs and sofas and cushions that were so soft one would sink into them. Hermione would like that… it would be like a cocoon for her to sit and read in. New paintings replaced those of wizards triumphing over muggles; from masterpieces by Monet and Picasso to abstract pieces by venders on the street. The heavy drapery was replaced with sheer curtains that allowed the light in and made the room more inviting.

The second room he fixed up was their – her – bedroom. Since they wouldn't likely be sharing a room, Draco decided to let Hermione sleep there while he slept down the hall in a guest room. He chose to completely start from scratch, painting the walls a light gray color. The new four poster king size bed was a tan color with tiny flowers carved on vines twisting all over the frame. Soft crème colored cotton sheets were covered with the palest pink comforter. Two gray armchairs stood by the window. The bookshelf still covered one entire wall; filled with Hermione's favorite books along with some of the new titles he had gotten for her. The fireplace was the only thing interrupting the wall of books, its stones covered in ornate carvings of mythical creatures. A small loveseat stood before the fireplace. Finally, Draco placed a bassinet near the bed so when the baby came, Hermione wouldn't be far from it.

Then all he could do was wait for Saturday to come.

He wondered what she was doing. Where she went. What she was thinking about. Who was she with? Was it business related? Was she really gone, or was she trying to put off the inevitable? What if she never came back?

Draco Malfoy decided he was going crazy. Hermione was an adult, she could do as she pleased and he just had to deal with it. But it didn't mean he liked it.

By Friday evening, he was so anxious that he could not concentrate on anything. He picked at his dinner. He read the same sentence in the evening paper twelve times. Stared out a window until the sun disappeared over the horizon. Tossed and turned in bed for hours.

He knew he shouldn't be so nervous about everything; he'd wanted it to happen. It was the waiting that was driving him nuts. He wondered when she was going to get back. Had she had a late flight? What if something happened to her? What if Chev had gotten to her?

No, he reminded himself, there was nothing to worry about, she was capable of taking care of herself and would do just fine until the morning. He would have the foreseeable future to make sure she was safe. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something could be going wrong.

It wouldn't hurt if he showed up to her house a little earlier than expected, would it? He didn't think it would make much difference in the long run.

**XXXXX**

The sandwich fell to the floor. Hermione swallowed with difficulty the bite of food she had in her mouth. The bread seemed to scrape its way down her throat, causing her to sputter and cough. He looked unfazed as he asked, "You're not ill, I trust?"

He was lounging on the bed, his arms propped behind his head as he watched her try to catch her breath. The bare tree limbs beyond her window cast strange shadows on his face, making it appear disfigured… had he been in an accident?

"Chev?" she asked, frozen near the doorway, "What… what are you doing here? How did you get in?" She glanced down at her right hand, looking for the wand that was as much a part of her as her hands themselves. It was empty. She tried to be inconspicuous as she felt her pockets and coat for it, hiding her shock.

Draco's many warnings echoed through her head. She had never really taken them seriously until now.

"I let myself in, of course." Chev continued to stare at Hermione. "What a lovely house this has become; you really have good taste." As if to reiterate his point, Chev ran his hands over the blanket on the bed. Her bed.

The wards she had placed on her house had been strong… he must have tried very hard to get in. She began searching her purse for her wand. "Was your trip enjoyable?" he asked again, "I have always enjoyed the Mediterranean."

Hermione froze, looking at him. In the bowels of her magically expanded purse her books tipped over with a muted thud. "How did you know where I was?" she asked. Panic had crept into her voice. Stay calm, she reminded herself, fear will only make it worse.

"I followed you," he said, like he was talking of the weather. Hermione gawked at him, her hands returning furiously to digging through her purse, her heart hammering. "And I have to say, it was hard to wait until now to come to you."

Hermione dropped her purse to the floor. "What do you want from me?" Her instincts told her to run, and run fast. Her feet refused to move. Sweat broke out on her forehead. _Where was her wand?_

He was sitting up now, a smile forming on his lips. She realized with horror that the shadows she thought were distorting his face were not. His face and neck was covered in huge, puffy jagged scars; he was missing half of his right ear. "I'm going to kill you," he said.

The kitchen! Her wand was on the counter next to the loaf of bread she had left out. If she could just get to it before, before he got to her she would have a chance to take him out! Her heart was beating in her ears. The child kicked within her. She had to get her wand, not for herself but for the baby.

She spun on her heel and bolted from her room. He was right behind her, catching the back of her coat. She struggled against him, undoing the buttons as she did so. The coat flew off. Hermione flew forward, descending the stairs rapidly. She dodged a spell that broke the banister.

She looked back. He was three steps behind her.

Her foot caught on a step. She fell down the last steps. He was looming over her. She kicked him in the shin. Ignored the throbbing in her head. Crawled on her hands and knees towards the kitchen and her salvation.

He grabbed her left ankle in a vice like grip she couldn't escape. She kicked at him wildly with her other leg as he pulled her farther and farther away from the kitchen. Grabbed onto a doorframe. Left fingernail marks in it as he continued to pull her. "Why so scared?" he purred.

His hands left her body, only to be replaced with the feeling of magic flipping her onto her back and holding her down. She whimpered under his terrifying gaze. "Giving up so easily?"

"Please," she pleaded, "please don't do this. I'll give you anything you want. Anything!" He was leaning over her now, his puckered face grinning. He slapped her face. She tasted blood.

"There's no need to cry, Hermione." He was rubbing the cheek he had slapped. She turned her head away from him. She shut her blurry eyes. "I really do like you… it will be a shame to see you die."

She focused on breathing. Struggled to get out of the magical bonds that held her down.

"But this is no fun, is it?" His voice was close to her head. She could feel his hot breath on her hair. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Please, don't."

He frowned, pushed a strand of hair from her face. "Why not? There is nothing that you can possibly give me…" She shuddered as he raked his eyes over her frozen body. A tear made its way down her cheek.

"_Please_," she begged again.

He tapped his wand against his chin like he was thinking. "Very well."

The magical bonds broke. She slapped him as hard as she could, content to see him fall backwards. She struggled to her feet, running for the kitchen. She made it as far as the threshold. He caught her round the waist. Picked her up off the ground.

She flailed against him violently. Elbowed his eye. He dropped her onto the floor of the kitchen. She felt her shoulder pop out of place. The ropes went around her hands and feet. She moaned, he smirked over her. "Feisty, aren't we?" He straddled her, sitting on her abdomen.

His hands found her throat. Strangled gurgling noises filled the room as she struggled for breath. Her cheeks were on fire. Her lungs screaming. The child kicking furiously. Her legs twitching as she tried to kick him off. Her hands clamped together behind her back. Black spots appearing in her vision. The pressure, oh God the pressure on her neck.

The frenzied look on his mutilated face. His teeth bared to her.

The verge of death.

His hands left her neck. She inhaled huge amounts of oxygen, coughing and sputtering. Her body nearly convulsed with relief.

"Are you going to be a good girl now?" he sneered above her.

Her oxygen deprived brain was fuzzy and she couldn't stop coughing. She struggled to nod. Anything, anything to stay alive.

He smacked her face again, hard. "Good. Now let's have some fun, shall we?" He got up. Hermione stared at the ceiling, she heard him rummaging around in the drawers. She gasped for breath.

The cold blade ran across her neck lightly. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes. Was this really how her life was to end? On the floor of her own kitchen, helpless and alone?

He was on his knees beside her, smiling again. The knife was dangerously close to her head; she squeezed her eyes shut. But the slice never came.

Instead, the ripping of fabric filled her ears. The cool air hit her skin as her sweater was cut from her body starting at the neck. She began crying audibly. "Shh," he soothed in a way that made her want to retch, "shh."

Her sweater fell open. His hands were on her breasts, her stomach. The child was still kicking. He paused, feeling her stomach almost with revere… before suddenly pushing down on it hard. The pain raced through her, from her stomach to her back to her ribcage and hands still behind her back, causing her to scream in terror and pain.

The child within her quieted, which frightened her more than anything Chev could possibly do to her.

His hands were on her breasts again, pinching her ruthlessly through the fabric of her bra. She bit her cheeks to keep from sobbing.

The knife nicked her chest as her bra was removed. His laughing filled the room. He pinched her nipples violently as he got on top of her, his knee forcing her tied legs to part. She could feel the scars on his face touching her own, his tongue licking her face. His lips were on hers, forcing her to open her mouth to him. His tongue trying to dominate her. She bit down as hard as she could. His blood filled her mouth.

He jerked back; she spit his blood in his face. He growled, punching her in the side of the head. Bile welled up inside her. Her body went slack.

He bit her neck, her shoulders, breaking the skin. She couldn't move, couldn't even try to escape her bonds. She could only sob.

The knife ripped into her pants, cutting a long line from the waist to the knee. He pulled at them roughly, taking them down to her ankles.

Realizing what was going to happen, Hermione's body acted of its own accord, coming to life again as she struggled to get away from him. She kicked wildly, yelling, bracing against the floor with her hands and trying to back away. She could see where her wand should be on the counter.

He'd stumbled away from her. She backed towards the kitchen counter as fast as she could_. Accio wand!_ she thought, hoping against hope it would come to her. It remained where it was. _Accio! Accio! Please!_

Chev seemed amused by her attempts to get away. He easily caught her and grabbed her by the hair. His eyes were wild as he brought the knife to her face. Like someone dragging their fingers over her skin, she felt the knife puncture her forehead. Felt the warm liquid she knew was her own blood trickle from the wound. The hot pain when he hit her bone.

Her screams filled the kitchen.

She deliriously heard the knife hit the floor. Chev flipped her onto her stomach. On the floor, her tears mixed with blood. He ripped her panties off. Forced her legs to part.

Hermione sobbed into the tiles as his member touched her most private spot. Shrieked as he forced himself inside and violated her.

**XXXXX**

Draco had only meant to wait on the porch. But when he arrived and the lights were on in the downstairs of Hermione's house, he thought that maybe she needed some help packing. After all, that was what he was there for, wasn't it? To help her pack for her life at home, where she belonged.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he walked up the sidewalk toward her house, nervous and excited for the days, months, and hopefully years to come. He would do whatever it took to get her back.

He took the porch steps two at a time, knocked on the door. No one answered. He waited; maybe she had fallen asleep. He knocked a little louder. Still no answer. His stomach turned nervously. He tried the door handle. It was unlocked.

Hermione wouldn't leave her door unlocked, ever.

He pushed the door open. He had to know she was alright… he'd deal with the repercussions later.

And that was when he heard it.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh wasn't even what disturbed him the most. It was hearing the unmistakable voice of Hermione, his wife, sobbing as she begged for it to stop.

In an instant, Draco's wand was out and he was in the kitchen pulling the rotten bastard off of Hermione. The mutilated face of Chev Allin grinned at him before Draco punched him. He was knocked out cold. For good measure he cast an immobilizing charm on him. He wasn't going to get away this time.

She whimpered beside him.

Draco was quickly on his knees beside her, removing the ropes from her wrists and ankles. "Hermione," he exclaimed, "it's alright… I'm here now." She flinched as he touched her upper arm. Bruises were already starting to form along her arms and back. He gingerly turned her onto her back, making sure to not touch any spot that looked injured.

Her eyes were glassy, tears still falling. Her face was covered in blood. Where was it all coming from? He ripped a portion of his shirt off, wetting it with a charm. The bruises revealed themselves one by one, nearly covering her entire face.

She started sobbing harder when he reached her forehead.

There, written in large crooked letters was the word, _"WHORE."_

**XXXXX**

A/N: It's been a long time since I've updated. I appreciate your patience. I lost two close family members very unexpectedly last year, and to be honest I haven't had the heart to write.

This chapter was very hard for me to do. I literally rewrote it a few times… the subject matter was difficult to say the least.

Anyway, thank you to all who reviewed! **Xo4Kisses-Dixo, CheshireCat23, vampiregurl, HisSilverEyes, lrmorena, Sin-and-Smokin, OBLuvr13, pansy25, crystalight22, kriskhil, 27cowboys, GothicKitten91, DramioneFan, candycane881, numberedheartbeats17, pinayflava90, The Review Writer, Princess, Vaneesa85, CranberryStar13, SlytherinGurrl, HufflepuffLoveSwag** I really appreciate them!

As always, leave a review! I like to know what you think.


	19. Into the Unknown

**DISCLAIMER: Unless I win the lottery, I will never own anything other than the books.**

**Chapter 19: Into the Unknown**

**WARNING: Violence. Read with care!**

Tears burned their way down his cheeks as he gently held his wife, dabbing at the crooked, bleeding letters on her forehead. Comforting words spilled from his mouth as he lay her down again for only a moment, running to the living room to retrieve a blanket. He paid no heed to the debris strewn throughout the room from the stairway, grabbing a blanket that was on the floor. Hermione's soft crying filled his ears. He wiped his eyes as he ran back to her… he had to be strong.

She was lying on her side, trying to curl into a ball. Her dislocated shoulder caused her arm to fall behind her back, useless. She saw him coming towards her and tried to move away. Screaming when he leaned down and placed the blanket over her, she fought violently when he picked her up. "Hermione!" he exclaimed, "Hermione it's me, Draco! I'm not going to let anything happen. We're going to the hospital, ok?"

Hermione's dark eyes were wild with fright; she seemed not to have heard him. She continued to fight against him, hitting him hard in the head and making him taste blood. "Hermione, please," he pleaded, "I have to get you to the hospital." He slowly made his way to the fireplace. He didn't trust himself to apparate. She screamed again, shaking her head violently. "Trust me," he whispered.

Tears and blood ran down her face as he stepped into the fireplace. He did his best to shield the open wound from the Floo powder after calling out for St. Mungo's. In the few moments it took to get to the hospital, Hermione mercifully passed out.

The area was deserted, and then it wasn't. Nurses and Healers were springing from every corner. Questions filled his ears. A gurney appeared and he was placing his wife on it. Healers were pressing him for information. He did his best to answer them, keeping a firm grip on Hermione's hand and running down the hall with the group of medical staff. Rape. No, he didn't know if she was cursed. Was Hermione going to be alright? Yes, she was pregnant. Five months, he thought? No, he didn't think she had pre-existing conditions… was she going to be alright? Did she need blood, could he give some? Examine her shoulder, please. Twenty-three and in perfect health. What of the child? Is the baby alright? Yes, he knew who did it. Is Hermione going to be ok? No, the bastard didn't get away. The baby?

A short, plump nurse with surprising strength took Draco's hand from Hermione's; keeping him from going into what Draco realized must be some sort of examination and healing room. "I'm sorry sir. I need you to accompany me to the waiting room." She looked at him with sympathetic eyes. Draco looked away, at the stark white wall. Blinked rapidly. The lady handed him a tissue. "We will get you immediately when you can see -"

"My wife," he said, "she's my wife. Hermione Malfoy." His voice cracked. The paint on the corner wall was chipping. The witch was suddenly very close to him.

"We will get you immediately, Mr. Malfoy," she said gently. She squeezed his hand before leading him away from the room.

Nothing else was said, which Draco was glad of. He didn't think his voice would work; and his mind was numb with worry, anger, and a shame that he had not felt since receiving the Dark Mark all those years ago.

He should have never let her leave his sight after learning Chev had not only talked to her before, but knew where she lived, too. He should have tried harder to convince her of the danger she was in, tried harder to make her stay instead of allowing her to go wherever she had gone. Hermione should have gone with him to Malfoy Manor with him one week ago… the judge should have made her. Then he would have been able to keep an eye on her. No matter how mad it surely would have made her, he at least would have known she was safe.

If only he had made sure Chev was dead, none of this would have happened.

"Malfoy?" The voice was familiar, and caused him to look up from examining the floor tile. Draco blinked the tears from his eyes and focused his attention. Harry Potter was rushing towards him. "What the hell happened to you?" Potter demanded.

He glanced down at his clothes. His shirt was ripped and covered in blood… Hermione's blood.

The nurse took the opportunity to leave, disappearing. Draco shook his head, swallowed hard. "Not me," he said as normally as he could, "Hermione."

Potter's shoulders slumped. He looked like a vagabond in his sweat suit. "Oh no. What happened? Is she – is she _alive?_"

Draco's stomach lurched, nausea flowing over him. He hadn't considered that Hermione might not make it. The thought alone was enough to make his knees buckle. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat without success. "She's alive… Chev Allin attacked her. It's… it's pretty bad. I don't know – I don't know what's happening."

Despite the mutual dislike between them, Potter put his hand on Draco's shoulder, which he didn't have the heart to shove off, and said, "She'll pull through. She's tough; a fighter."

Draco nodded, his jaw hardened. He didn't meet Potter's eyes, but said as normally as he could manage, "Chev is still at her house. I need to get him to Azkaban or someplace where he can be questioned. And then killed. I don't trust myself not to kill him _right now_."

Finally he looked at Potter. He had to understand his feelings at least a little. He had to help him. Potter was watching him closely, and then, "Let's go," he said. They nodded once at each other and were off.

Draco practically ran to the Floo room with Potter on his heels and murder on his mind. He threw the sooty substance in the first fireplace he came to and was halfway through saying the address to Hermione's house by the time Potter jumped in with him. The flames enveloped them, and the soot had no time to dirty their clothes… they were thundering into the kitchen before either could blink.

Before Draco's feet lay Chevalier Allin, his trousers at his knees, laughter coming from his paralyzed mouth. That man had made Hermione's life a living Hell for who knew how long before he got there. He had raped, tortured, and terrified the woman he loved – for no reason. If he hadn't gotten there when he did, she would probably be dead. Seething, Draco kicked the vermin in the ribs, content to hear bones cracking. Allin's laughter continued.

The urge to kill him was nearly overwhelming. The bastard's eyes watched him mockingly as he turned away and began to pace back and forth, clenching and unclenching his fists. Never in his life had he wanted to rip a person limb from limb using nothing but a dull butter knife more than in that moment.

That filth had violated his wife. Tortured her. Tried to kill her. Stalked her. Followed her into the one place in the world she should have been able to feel safe in, and ruined it.

And now she was at the hospital, fighting for her life. Another well placed kick to the ribs did nothing to ease his anger – he kicked again, hearing more bones snap, and again. Chev gasped for breath. "Malfoy," Potter said from somewhere behind him, "We need to keep him alive for now." Draco looked back at him; Potter looked murderous. "Aim lower."

Had it been under pleasant circumstances, Draco would have had a sarcastic and rude reply for him, but all he could do was give Potter the smallest of smirks and move a few steps, kicking Allin as hard as he could in the groin. Through his frozen mouth, Chev let out a scream like a dying rabbit. "I'm going to make you wish you'd never been born," he growled.

He walked to the remains of the staircase, taking his time to choose a thick piece of what used to be the banister and return to the kitchen. Potter watched him, silent. Draco lifted the piece of wood high above his head and swung it with all his might onto Allin's lower legs. The bastard screamed.

"So you thought you would get away with it, did you!?" he thundered. He swung again. "Thought you could just break into someone's house!?" _Smack!_ the crunch of bone. "That you could rape my wife!?" _Smack! Smack! _"Follow her! Make her life miserable!?" _SMACK!_ Incoherent words came from Chev's mouth. "Violate her in every way possible!? _Kill her!?"_ _SMACK! SMACK!_ He lost control. He hit every available piece of Chev's body that he could get to, again and again. He didn't care whether he killed him or not.

It seemed only seconds before Potter was wrestling the chunk of banister from Draco's hands. Breaking from his trancelike state, Draco saw that he was poised to hit Chev's skull. His hands dropped to his side. "I said that's enough for now!" Potter exclaimed, throwing the now bloody object aside. "He has to be alive for questioning."

Panting from exertion, Draco took a step away from the nearly unconscious and very bloody Chev. He hadn't realized he'd started crying in earnest. But he didn't care that Harry Potter saw the tears. Somehow, he knew he understood. So instead, Draco nodded and wiped his sweaty upper lip on his sleeve.

"I need to get him to Azkaban," Potter said. "The dementors will be happy to take him off our hands. I'll get a team together for interrogation…. You need to get to the hospital." Potter swallowed hard and blinked a few times. "I'm so sorry, Malfoy," he added in a slightly cracked voice.

Draco nodded again. The entire situation seemed too impossible to be real.

"Just one more thing," he said, pulling his wand out. Draco pointed his wand at Chev's groin, speaking the incantation for a curse that would – in a most painful manner – shrivel his manhood and turn it black over the course of a day or two, then make it fall off completely.

Then, while Chev gasped and babbled incoherently, Draco leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Be glad Saint Potter was here to stop me from ripping you limb from limb, you son of a bitch. You will pay dearly for your crimes, mark my words."

Satisfied Draco watched while Potter levitated Allin and headed back to the fireplace. He waited until the green flames had enveloped them and died away before starting his search of the house. He had no idea what he was hoping to find.

He started in the kitchen, where most of the atrocities occurred. He took note of the drying blood, smeared on the floor near where her wand lay perched on the counter next to an open loaf of bread. A peanut butter jar stood nearby. She had been so close to her wand… so close, yet so far away. He took note of the fingernail marks on the doorframe that separated the kitchen from the living room and felt nausea threaten when he noticed the broken fingernail still in the doorframe. She had tried so hard to get away!

Under the table in the dining room, he found a pile of cigarette butts and ashes. Had he been hiding there? For how long? That he could have been in the house without Hermione knowing it brought back the monstrous anger against himself, against Allin, against the circumstances that led to this happening.

Hermione's right shoe laid upside-down on one of the stairs. Her coat laid in a heap at the top, two of its buttons a ways away as if it was ripped from her person in a struggle. The floor in the hallway creaked as he went to the open door of Hermione's bedroom.

The contents of her purse – clothes, books, a pile of sea shells he could only assume were for Lucas – had erupted on the floor… he knew Hermione wouldn't leave her belongings strewn about unless, unless Allin had been in her room when she got home. That would explain why the peanut butter sandwich she'd made lay near her purse with a boot print in the middle. Her bed coverings were rumpled. He must have been lying there for a while.

Beside the bed was a strange pile, composed of expensive looking high heels, boxes of jewelry, and several scandalous looking negligees and lingerie sets that seemed very un-Hermione-ish. The garbage beside the pile was overflowing with dead and dying red roses. Strange, he thought, why wouldn't she have put the items away? Didn't she want them? He knew roses were not her favorite flower, but surely she wouldn't get them and throw them out immediately? A small card lay on top of one of the bunches of flowers. The writing was not one that he recognized… he wrenched open the small envelope it was in. It said, _Thinking of you. Love always, your secret admirer._

Draco frowned. He hadn't sent the flowers. He dug through the rest of the flowers, pulling out every card he came to. They all said similar things: _Wish you were here! Love, your secret admirer. These reminded me of your beautiful mouth… Longing to kiss you, your secret admirer. _– and so on and so forth. He left the tiny cards in a stack next to the flowers they came with.

Then, Draco searched the strange pile of things again, looking for any indication of where, and who, the items came from because he certainly hadn't sent them. There was nothing showing who they came from. There was a tag on one of the pieces of lingerie told Draco where the item was bought – an expensive boutique outside of Paris he only knew of because he had bought Hermione something there before their wedding. Surely they would know who had bought it?

He threw the bit of lace and sparkles on the bed. The jewelry boxes all had the same name on them, _Kratts Bros. Flawless Jewels, Trinkets, and Ornaments, making occasions since 304 BC_. He knew where that was… it was the very place he had bought Hermione's engagement ring. That store kept impeccable records of sales. He placed the boxes on the bed, too.

He took a deep breath. He would be able to figure out who sent the items.

But… what if they were really from someone who had genuine interest in Hermione? Maybe she had a beau... Even with that possibility, however, what happened in this very house only an hour or two ago was enough to warrant suspicion.

He couldn't, wouldn't, take any chances. He had to find out exactly what happened, and why, for his sake as much as Hermione's.

He found a bag in Hermione's closet and placed the boxes, the notes from the flowers, and lingerie in it, and headed down the stairs, careful to make sure he didn't disrupt the evidence of the struggle between Hermione and Allin. Aurors would want to investigate. He made his way back into the kitchen, taking Hermione's wand from the counter and putting it in his pocket.

He took a deep breath before stepping outside into the blustery night, trying to calm himself so he wouldn't splinch when he apparated to Malfoy Manor. Lucius would make sure the items were kept safe until he could figure out what to do.

Lucius was in his office when Draco arrived. He inhaled sharply at the sight of Draco, and stood so quickly his rolling chair smacked the wall behind it with a loud bang. "What in the name of Merlin happened to you, Draco?" he demanded, rounding the desk so he could get a better look at him. Lucius' lip curled, but his eyes betrayed his true emotions of concern and fear.

Draco took another deep breath. "I don't have time to go into details right now, Father." He handed the girly colored bag out for his father to take. Lucius eyed it suspiciously but took it. "Hermione is in the hospital – she was attacked by Allin." He swallowed hard. "I don't know how she is… whether the baby –" He couldn't speak his very worst fear.

Lucius seemed calm, but his voice, like his eyes, betrayed his true emotions. "And this?" His voice was shaky as he gestured to the bag.

Draco looked blearily at the thing. "I need you to make sure no one, not even Mother, gets their hands on this bag. I am positive the contents have something to do with all of this." He looked at his father. "Promise me," he added.

"Very well," replied Lucius. "I will guard it until you return." He paused and stepped towards Draco, looking as if he was going to really hug him. He stopped short. "You should get to the hospital. We can discuss the situation at length later."

"Thank you," Draco managed, leaving the Manor as quickly as he came, arriving at St. Mungo's just in time for the same plump nurse to find him and give him an update.

**XXXXX**

Sometimes voices spoke quietly around her, the melodic tones flowing over her head like a light breeze. Sometimes there was just the sound of irregular breathing, or the feeling of a hand lightly clasped around hers. She couldn't move herself away from the person touching her, and she panicked; images flashing in the darkness of Chev with the knife, smiling as he cut her skin. Laughing as she struggled to get away. Pressing his hands to her throat….

She refused to open her eyes and see his face before her. The blurry words spoken to her were Chev's, here to finish her off once and for all. She struggled to move her sluggish limbs, her eyes still shut. Screamed as loud as she could to try and get help._ Oh, God, please someone help me! Stop! Stop! Please!_

He pried her mouth open. _Not again! No!_ She bit down as hard as she could on whatever was in her mouth. In the distance there was a yelp of pain, a muted swear word. Why was no one coming to help her!? Didn't anyone realize what was happening to her?

A liquid dribbled down her chin and neck, shut out by her mouth clamping shut once the thing was out of her mouth. She didn't want to know what it was. She screamed again, willing her arms and legs to fight back.

Someone was yelling her name. _Help! Help me! I can hear you! Find me please!_ She could feel tears – or was it blood? – on her face, falling into her hair because she was on her back on the floor in the kitchen. She could feel the cold tile under her back. Feel his hot breath on her face.

_Please, just get it over with!_ The foggy voice above her sounded panicky. Another voice joined in… oh he brought friends! Friends to watch her die! She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, and screamed again. Something hit her shoulder… poked it… something warm was running down her arm. Blood? Yes, it felt like blood… she was lightheaded. They must have hit an artery… She tried to move her arms again. They stayed leadenly by her sides. This was the end….

Blissful unconsciousness greeted her and she remembered no more.

**XXXXX**

A/N: Another difficult chapter. Sorry for the long update, but being a senior in college with a major that requires a minimum of two papers every week is draining. I know, blah, blah, blah. Oh well. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

And Happy New Year! May 2013 bring you peace, happiness, and everything you wish for!

Thanks to all who reviewed! **lrmorena, Vanessa85, linux-Ginny, shaymars, SlytherinGurrl, candycane881, Review Writer, vampiregurl, HisSilverEyes, StarLightsDream, urni, NewWriter1996, Have a Nice Dream **You guys are the greatest!

As always, leave a review! I like to know what you think.


	20. Together

**DISCLAIMER: In the sort-of words of Taylor Swift, 'I am never ever, ever, ever, getting Harry Potter.'**

**Chapter 20: Together**

It took days for the healers to decide it was safe to allow Hermione to wake up fully, with no influence from sedatives or Dreamless Sleep potion. He couldn't bring himself to leave her side for more than a minute or two, when the healers needed access to her abdomen, and even then he lingered out of the way in the corner of the room.

They used words he was unfamiliar with, poked and prodded her body in a way that made him uncomfortable. And all the while, she lay there like a beat-up ragdoll. The cuts on her head were nearly gone, and the salve they kept applied to her forehead would make sure the scar was nearly invisible… but at that moment, he could still see the shiny, silvery lines of scarring spelling _WHORE_. Every time he looked at the mark, the anger filled him to the tips of his fingers.

The bruises on her arms and legs were starting to fade, turning a strange bluish green color, though the hand marks on her neck still stood out a strong purple, and her face was covered in small red spots that looked like a rash – petechiae, they had called it – caused by the capillaries rupturing when she was strangled.

He had to breathe deeply and look away from his wife for a moment, lest he lose his extremely fragile control. He had barely managed to not start weeping like he had the second night he was by her side, after she bit his fingers when he tried to help the healer get her to take the Dreamless Sleep potion and it had taken himself and two healers to hold her down, and a nurse to finally give her the potion in the form of an injection in the arm.

He had started crying when her head hit the pillows, unconscious, remnants of the look of terror she'd worn still marring her features. The healers had checked her vitals, pretending they didn't see Draco half crouching, half lying on the bed next to her, brushing the hair out of her face with one hand while resting the other on the child still within her.

He'd apologized over and over, to Hermione, to the child, for everything he had done – the circumstances under which their marriage had fallen apart, for being so stubborn and proud, for not stopping Allin sooner, for not protecting her as he swore he always would. It made no difference, he knew, no matter how much or how often he apologized nothing would ever make up for what he had allowed to happen to her.

He looked again at his wife. She would be waking up soon. She would be upset, she probably wouldn't understand what was happening – the healers said it was a side effect of the trauma and all the medications she'd been given. A sheen of sweat was already noticeable on her skin. Her swollen middle, which was being examined, looked strange… he couldn't put his finger on what was the matter.

The child was not well, he knew. Whatever had happened in Hermione's home had been damaging. It was alive, which he was grateful for, but barely so. Healers came every hour, on the hour, to check the fetus. And every hour, they looked sad as they turned to him and said with so much sympathy that it was almost unbearable, "Nothing's changed." It was awful to hear that the child was not getting stronger, but he was relieved to hear that things were not getting worse… the last thing Hermione needed when she woke up was to hear that her child was dead.

It would kill her.

It would kill him.

The healer replaced the hospital gown and blankets over her. It almost made it appear as if she was merely sleeping or taking a nap, and would be waking for some great party soon, save for the damages on her skin.

The same sad look passed over the healer's face before he gave a small shake of his head and left the room. Draco was immediately by his wife's side again. He took her small limp hand in his, rubbing the smooth skin with his thumb. "I know you can't hear me," he said quietly. "Merlin knows they've had you on enough potions to knock out a troll these past few days. They're going to let you wake up today, Hermione." He watched her face for a moment, blank and peaceful. "I'm so sorry for what has happened to you, my love, so sorry I could not stop him. If I could go back and change things, I would…."

He kissed her hand. "You've always carried so many burdens on your shoulders. You've always had to be strong for one reason or another… but not now, Hermione. Not now. You don't have to be strong. Give me your burdens, your troubles. I will be strong for you. I will carry you."

He swore he felt her hand squeeze his.

**XXXXX**

What day was it?

Where was everyone?

Where was she?

How did she get away?

How was she alive?

Nothing, nothing mattered.

The nightmare was bloodcurdling. Not even the dreamless sleep potion helped. Chev Allin would come to her in her dreams, his puffy scarred face burning itself on the backs of her eyes, his sickening words filling her ears as he came closer and closer…. The sound of her own screams woke her.

It was dark, too dark. Her breath came in short puffs and she struggled to see her surroundings. A bed, yes she was in a bed… it was lumpy. Had he taken her somewhere? She suddenly became aware that there was something warm engulfing one of her hands, and she pulled away as hard as she could. It was Chev… she had to get away! She avoided looking at his horrific face again. "Don't touch me, you bastard!" she rasped. "You've gotten what you wanted, now kill me!"

The warmth left her immediately. "Hermione," the voice said, "everything is alright. You're safe now. You're in St. Mungo's. Chevalier Allin can't hurt you anymore."

Something about the voice slightly sated her nerves, and she chanced a look at who was talking. Her blurry eyes took a moment to focus in the dark. The astonishingly bright hair stood out first, unkept and in his face, and a beard of the same color went along his jaw. His pale skin seemed to blend in with the hair, giving him a ghostly appearance. His eyes gray eyes watched her closely. "Draco?" she whispered.

He nodded. "Yes, it's me."

Hermione dissolved into sobs. "Oh, Draco! I thought… I didn't… thank God, _thank God_!" she croaked. Then suddenly they were engulfed in each other's arms both sobbing, hugging, and kissing each other; all anger, jealousy, and previous emotions forgotten in that moment for the sheer joy of being alive and together.

"Lucas?" she asked after Draco had kissed the tears on her cheeks.

"Is just fine. He spent two days more with your parents, and then went to the Manor with Mother and Father."

She was almost too scared to ask. "And – and the baby?"

She started crying again when Draco kissed her lips lightly and resumed his position in the chair he'd been in, taking her hand again. Her other went involuntarily to her child. She felt no movement. "The baby is alive" – Hermione let out the breath she had been holding – "but barely. What happened to you also harmed the fetus. It could be any number of things…"

Hermione stopped listening. Her child was alive, but injured… sick, possibly dying. She gripped her abdomen, hoping the action would somehow keep the child alive and make it better. Terror filled her, worse than any she had ever felt before. Unlike other situations she had been involved with, she had no choice. She had no say over whether her child lived or died.

She cried harder than she had ever cried in her life.

A complete and utter sense of helplessness engulfed her.

She had failed at the one job in the entire world she wasn't allowed to fail at – keeping the child growing within her safe from harm.

Nothing mattered anymore.

"Hermione," she heard Draco say, "We'll get through this together."

She could only close her eyes and nod, crying and holding his hand with a white-knuckled grip.

**XXXXX**

A/N: I know it's really short. I wanted to get this out before classes start tomorrow. And, I'm not making any promises, but the rest of this story seems to be coming together, so perhaps it will be easier to get updates out. (:

Thank you to all who reviewed! **shaymars, Roseweasley85, Ob33yTiTi, You're Awesome, Guest, Vaneesa85 **You guys are awesome!

As always, review! I like to know what you think.


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